


Resumed Identities

by elaine



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-18
Updated: 2000-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-10 20:32:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 64,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11134212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: What do you do when the idenity you've assumed becomes more real than your own? And how do you protect those you love from the fallout? PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY.This story is a sequel to Assumed Identity by Mitch Hudson.





	Resumed Identities

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Resumed Identities

 

this story is a sequel to Mitch Hudson's Assumed Identity. i'd like to  
thank Mitch for allowing me to play in his universe. unfortunately, Assumed  
Identity doesn't appear to be anywhere on the internet, and i haven't  
been able to get in touch with Mitch to let him know. i think this story  
is self explanatory enough for it not to be too confusing :)  
  
i might never have finished this story if not for the help of Hamlette,  
who helped me out with some penetrating character assessments when i  
got very stuck. Anagi was also a huge help by beta reading the story  
and providing useful suggestions.  
  
  
Resumed Identites covers a period from a few days before the events of  
CotW to several months afterward. i've tried to remain true to the events  
of CotW, while interpreting those events to fit in with where i wanted  
the story to go, so this is not a fixit or an AU, but a recognition that  
life goes on after the end of the show and that things don't always turn  
out the way they're planned.  
  
**WARNING: this story contains some fairly graphic descriptions of rape.  
**  
Rating: NC-17, for graphic descriptions of rape, violence and m/m sexual  
situations  
  


**Resumed Identities**

Once there was a Chicago cop called Ray Vecchio. Then he became a mobster named Armando Langoustini. The man who crouched, naked, legs parted, on the large bed was neither man. If pressed, he would have admitted to being Armando, but truthfully, he no longer thought very much about who he was.

Over the months he'd settled into Armando's skin and Armando's life until he barely remembered the cop called Vecchio, or the friends and lovers Vecchio had known. Except when he was with John Laurier. Being with Laurier, allowing the Canadian to fuck him with a ruthless precision, was probably the most terrifying thing he could do. He should have ended it long ago, but, with the same kind of subconscious need that makes amputees feel phantom sensations from their missing limbs, the man who was known as Armando Langoustini needed a reminder of who he'd once been, even if it meant risking his life.

Without the occasional assignations he'd had with John Laurier, the man on the bed would have gone crazy months ago… whether from the terror of being who he had to be, or from the fear of never again being the man he'd left behind in Chicago, he wasn't sure. Laurier was the only person in his life who'd known Ray Vecchio, and he needed this man to remind him that Ray Vecchio had ever existed.

But, if there was one thing Armando Langoustini surely was not, it was patient. Eventually the man on the bed remembered that and lifted his head. "Well, what are ya waiting for?" His voice was rough; needy and irritable.

"Why, nothing, Armand." The Canadian-accented voice was quietly amused. Playing mind games again. Everything was a game with Laurier, at least when they were in the bedroom. Most of the games were physical, many of them were painful too.

He'd known from the beginning that Laurier liked it rough. At first he'd denied the Canadian that part of his pleasure, but over time little things had crept in, as they'd both known would happen; and then bigger things. The man who was neither Armando nor Ray needed to avoid situations where he might mistakenly call out another man's name. But nothing about sex with Laurier reminded him of other lovers now. It reminded him of danger, of hunter and prey.

As if to reinforce that thought the quiet sound of a body shifting on silk sheets alerted him to Laurier's actions. He braced himself, just in time. With no preparation, no other warning than a firm grip on his hips, a thick cock slammed into him, rocking him so hard he almost collapsed onto the mattress.

"Fuck!" He gripped the sheets and locked his arms straight. Pleasure, or maybe it was pain... he could no longer tell the difference, flared through his lower body. His cock, only half erect, shrivelled almost to nothing and his balls, drawn up against his body in the expectation of pleasure, dropped again to hang swaying between his legs.

A low chuckle answered his cry. "Well, at least I've got your attention now, Armand. You're usually more involved than this."

"Okay, you've got my attention. Don't do that again."

A brisk slap on his ass gave him no assurance on that point. "Open up, dammit, Armand. You're tighter than a virgin."

He made himself relax, moving with the fierce, deep thrusts, but he couldn't relax enough. His ass was burning, his cock showed no signs of stiffening and he couldn't bring himself to care. He wanted the sensations to continue. Pleasure was too risky; he needed to feel something and pain was better than nothing.

Laurier grunted, pleased no doubt at his cooperation, and leaned forward, covering his back. An arm slid around his waist and Laurier's hand fumbled downwards, found his soft cock and began to pump it ruthlessly. More pain. More sensation, but no change in his cock.

"Armand? What's wrong?" Laurier seemed genuinely concerned. His thrusts slowed almost to a stop.

It suddenly occurred to him that at the first sign of real weakness Laurier would turn on him with the instincts of any self-respecting carnivore. That thought sent a jolt of adrenalin straight to his brain. "Nothin'. I've been... busy. Just finish it, will ya?"

Laurier didn't need telling twice. He redoubled his efforts, still pumping futilely at the limp cock, but in a few minutes it was over, and he withdrew with no more care than he'd entered. They tumbled sideways onto the mattress and lay panting.

"Who is he?" Laurier pulled him around roughly. "Who are you fucking?"

He thought for a moment that his heart would leap out of his chest. If he denied it, Laurier would never believe him. "He's nobody, okay? They're all nobodies. If you'd told me you were coming, I wouldn't have had him. Dammit John, I never said I'd be exclusive."

Laurier relaxed a bit. "You look tired Armand. What's up?"

"Not me, that's for sure." He laughed humourlessly. "I got something coming up. I need... distracting sometimes. You should have told me you'd be here."

"I prefer not to let too many people know about my movements." Laurier grinned. "So, what's coming up? Apart from you, that is."

He sighed. Now that it was over, he just wanted to be alone. "A trip. To Chicago. I could tell you more than that, John. But then I'd have to kill you."

*

Turnbull's face, as he opened the door, showed a fleeting surprise; then it was replaced by a smile, a look of delighted pleasure in the blue eyes, and a subtle change in his stance. Ray Kowalski had gotten very adept at reading the Mountie over the last months. It was rather embarrassing to be the object of such romantic longings when all he felt in return was friendship, and a sense of curiosity as to why two men, one of whom he loved, the other of whom he was impersonating, should care so much for this doofus. Okay, he was a great lay, but…

But right now Turnbull was ushering him into Ray Vecchio's apartment and inquiring, as a good host should, after his health, and his preferences for a drink, a snack, anything else he might want.

Fraser had never really answered his question, in the early days, as to why, if this was Vecchio's apartment, and he was supposed to be Vecchio, Turnbull was living in it and not him. Fraser's only response had been startled look and an assurance that this way was best, thank you Ray. He hadn't had the confidence to push it then, and after the first few weeks of his relationship with Fraser their visits had tailed off and he'd pretty much forgotten about it. Now, visiting the apartment by himself for the first time ever, he began to wonder again.

His thoughts were interrupted by a list of available drinks, which showed signs of being unnaturally comprehensive. Seemed like Turnbull had every kind of tea, soft drink, beer or wine imaginable. "I'll have a Bud, thanks."

"Of course. Your favourite, isn't it Ray? Sit down and I'll bring it to you. In fact, I think I'll join you." A wide, only slightly daffy, smile was bestowed on him before the Mountie turned away, tripping on that rag rug that always seemed to get in his way.

Ray settled onto the couch and waited. A minute later Turnbull was back with a tray containing two cans, Budweiser and Molson's, and two tall glasses. He opened the Bud, poured it expertly and handed it to Ray.

"Thanks." He took a long swallow, suddenly feeling nervous about being here alone with the Canadian. "You don't drink Bud?"

"No, Ray." A polite little smile. "I'm afraid I don't like American beer very much."

"Then why…" he stopped, embarrassed by the thought that Turnbull might be keeping it here because it was his favourite. It wasn't like he and Fraser spent that much time over here.

Turnbull looked down at the glass held between his large, bony hands. "It's Ray's favourite too. When he drinks." The blue eyes fixed on his. "He doesn't like to drink much, you know."

"I heard." It was strange how the inflection in Turnbull's voice made it perfectly clear which Ray he was talking about. Strange how the longing seemed to reverberate through the simple words. If Turnbull had romantic feelings for him, what he felt for Ray Vecchio was obviously something of another order altogether. He wondered if the reason Turnbull was looking after the apartment had more to do with Turnbull than it did with Vecchio.

The image of a large golden Labrador faithfully guarding his master's slippers rose forcibly to his mind. He tried to dismiss it… it really was unfair to Turnbull to think of him that way, but still there was a certain truth to it that lodged in his mind and wouldn't allow itself to be evicted. Devoted faithfulness was certainly a large part of Turnbull's personality. When he loved, he didn't easily let go. Was that what Vecchio saw in him?

Ray sighed and set the glass aside. "I'm worried about Fraser. Have you noticed he's been acting strange?"

"Yes." Turnbull smiled mournfully. "He's… he's preoccupied, I think, Ray. He's waiting."

That was news to him. "Waiting for what?" His voice rose sharply. Part worry, part indignation that Fraser would confide in Turnbull and not him.

But Turnbull's head shook slowly from side to side. "I don't know. I don't think Fraser knows. I've seen it before, Ray. I think he has a touch of the Sight."

"Huh? Whaddaya mean, sight?"

"The Second Sight, Ray. I've always believed Fraser was a little… fey." Turnbull stared calmly at him. He could have been talking about mathematical rather than supernatural ability, so matter-of-fact was his voice.

Ray hurriedly repressed his immediate impulse to make fun of the big Mountie. Okay, so he was weird at times, but even Fraser, who definitely had problems with his subordinate's strange ways, would never deliberately hurt him. Fraser might have trouble showing it, but he cared a lot for Turnbull. So what if Ray suspected it was mainly for the sake of the absent Ray Vecchio. Even now, there were a lot of things about that triangular relationship that he didn't understand even though he was, in a way, part of it.

Time to get back to the important things… "So, what can we do about it?"

"Nothing, Ray." Turnbull frowned slightly. "Well, at least, nothing directly. We simply have to support him as best we can."

It made sense, but he'd hoped for more. He wasn't good at that kind of stuff… not like Turnbull was. He met a pair of eyes suddenly gone inwards and sad looking. So it wasn't any easier for Turnbull. His respect for the klutzy Mountie hiked itself up another notch.

"I guess I'd better go." He dragged himself unwillingly to his feet. With Fraser so remote and strange, there was no chance of their spending the night together and he didn't really want to be alone. But… he'd never even visited here alone before.

Turnbull stood too, putting aside his almost untouched beer. "You don't have to leave, Ray." His voice went low, with just a hint of shyness. "I'd… well, I'd welcome some company tonight."

*

Eventually Laurier left and he was alone again. It wasn't enough. In the early days of his assignment this bedroom had been his refuge from the stress of having to be always on his guard. Then he'd made the mistake of bringing Laurier in here… now it was the most terrifying battleground of his life. Every time Laurier left he needed to obliterate all reminders of their session. A long, hot shower helped, and when he came back to the bed it was laid with fresh, clean smelling sheets. A slow smile crossed his face. Nero was worth his weight in gold.

It ought to bother him that he hadn't been able to get it up tonight, but in truth, it came as no surprise. This had been building for months now. Laurier scared the Hell out of him. No, correction... his reaction to Laurier scared the Hell out of him. He needed Laurier the way crack addicts needed the drug that was killing them.

He dropped the silk robe from his shoulders and slid between the crisp sheets. Cotton, not silk, this time, and cool on his bare skin. He relaxed into them with a sigh.

It was late, and he was tired, but there was little likelihood of his sleeping now. Laurier had that effect on him, and tonight had been more hair raising than he'd ever anticipated. Now that it was over, the risks he'd taken chilled him, even as he recognised that the next time Laurier came to him, he take the exact same risks again. He'd lived for months now with the knowledge that he could be exposed at any time, and sometimes he thought it would be easier just to let go, to give up the last shred of his identity as Ray Vecchio and become, in every respect, Armando Langoustini. Except that becoming Armando scared him more than the prospect of dying did. If he truly became Armando, Ray Vecchio would be dead.

And at last, now that Laurier was gone, his cock was stirring. With a soft groan, he reached down and began to stroke it idly. He didn't know what to do about Laurier. His initial unwilling liking for the man had dwindled to nothing, and his fear of what he, or Laurier, might do had grown apace. The smart thing to do would be to end the relationship, if he could call it that.

He couldn't do it; couldn't even imagine doing it. Kill Laurier, maybe, but send him away? That, he conceded, was impossible. He hadn't been joking about killing Laurier. He'd do it if he had to... there wouldn't be any trouble if he did; there was always a good excuse, if you looked hard enough. But could he actually look into that face, the face of another man who was everything John Laurier was not, and pull the trigger himself? He doubted it. Well, there would always be someone else to do the job for him.

Even these disturbing thoughts weren't enough to stop him becoming aroused. He pumped his cock more firmly, though it was a weak imitation of Laurier's fierce grip. The soft throb became more insistent and he gripped his balls tightly with one hand while he fisted the shaft. It was close now, but he felt strangely detached. There was no pleasure, only the satisfaction of a physical need. He'd enjoyed the shower more.

On the thought, his cock pulsed, sending a weak spurt onto his belly. He released his grip and absently rubbed the drops into his skin, then rolled onto his side and allowed himself to relax into sleep.

*

The sheet was bunched up in his two fists and Ray Kowalski held on as though his life depended on it. He flexed his knees and pressed his feet flat against the mattress, tensed his thighs and tried really hard not to move his hips at all. Oh God… His head was pressed so far back into the pillow that his throat was stretched too tight to swallow. With an effort he levered his eyes open and eased his stiffening neck out a little. And watched the sandy head moving above his belly.

Nobody had told him Turnbull could be like this. On the few previous occasions that he'd been in bed with Turnbull, it had always been the three of them and they had divided their attentions pretty evenly. Having Turnbull all to himself was a whole other ballgame.

A low moan escaped him and he shivered. It had taken an eternity for Turnbull to reach the place he was now. Every square inch of his body had been explored, teased, suckled, caressed. Every breath, every heartbeat had been noted and taken account of in the slow progression of Turnbull's journey. He could see the fluttering of his heartbeat under the skin of his belly, perfectly in time with the throb of his cock. Perfectly in time with the soft press and release of Turnbull's tongue against his slit.

It changed again, as it had changed over and over at random intervals, in random sequence, to gentle probing, then again, almost immediately, to a delicate flicker of sensation over his whole cockhead. It was as though the whole of Turnbull's existence was summed up in the glide of his tongue over Ray's slit.

There was something about the way the Mountie went at this that was disturbingly childlike. Disturbing, when he thought of it in this context anyway. But in reality it was a sweet, almost innocent generosity that Turnbull brought to the act of making love, the kind of single-minded pursuit that was the realm of children. Or saints.

The alleged saint drew back, a tiny retreat, and then ran his tongue the length of the twitching, wildly throbbing shaft. He paused for a moment to suckle the cockhead one last time, then plunged down taking the whole length into himself in one smooth movement that almost fried Ray's brains. In spite of his best efforts his hips heaved upwards, lifting the whole lower half of his body off the bed as he screamed.

Turnbull rode it out expertly, not allowing it to interfere as his lips closed around the base of Ray's cock. As Ray's hips dropped back to the bed, he stayed where he was, allowing the cock to slide through the tight ring of his lips. The change from slow and intense to fierce and demanding was almost too much to bear.

Ray managed to hold on through three repeats of the cycle and then howled as his hips surged up and up, refusing to allow the downward part of the cycle. The sensations crested, eased a little, and then he was able to thrust, fucking Turnbull's face as though there had never been another two men who'd known this kind of pleasure in the history of the universe.

Through all the moans and the curses and the total meltdown of his brain, he was aware of Turnbull, guiding, steadying, seeing to his pleasure and his safety until he was able to think for himself again. He stared up at the long angular face, flushed and sweating, with just a hint of satisfaction in his blue eyes. Ray managed a smile for him, before his eyes dropped to that thick, beautiful Canadian cock, still standing proudly away from the sandy curls at Turnbull's groin. His balls were drawn up so tight they'd almost disappeared.

"Oh, man… come here, buddy. Come and fuck me." He reached out to draw the larger man down into his arms. His own cock lay still hard against his belly, sensitive to the slightest touch of Turnbull's skin, but that didn't matter. What Turnbull had just given him could only be repaid with an act of equal generosity.

They kissed, sharing the taste of Ray's cum while both of them caught their breath. Then, with a gentle nudge, Turnbull's cock was entering him. Slow. Very slow… the exquisite pressure built as all of that magnificent cock filled him. Turnbull was breathing hoarsely, but his control never wavered until the moment he came to rest, completely inside Ray's body. Then he shuddered and buried his head against Ray's shoulder.

Ray knew couldn't give Turnbull the kind of innocence the younger man brought to making love, but maybe, just maybe Turnbull needed something else. Something Fraser couldn't give him, but Vecchio just might… "Come on, buddy, do me good. Fuck my ass so hard I'll feel it into next week. I want you to come in me. Fill me up with…" he choked back a cry as Turnbull drew back a little and then rammed home again. Just once, and then he settled to a steady, hard rhythm that felt so incredibly good, Ray thought he might just come again. A few minutes of this and he'd be ready to try, anyway.

But there wasn't time… already Turnbull's body was shaking uncontrollably, almost to the point that he was unable to thrust effectively. Ray wrapped his arms around the solid chest, his legs around the sturdy hips, and plunged onto the iron length, deliberately clenching his ass muscles to hold it there inside him. Another thrust, shaky but true, and a ragged sob warned him that Turnbull was beyond need, beyond the ability to continue. He clenched his muscles again and released; clench and release, milking the captive shaft until he felt it happen… that thick pulsing contraction, the hot wet release, the unmistakable shudder of a body pressed beyond its endurance.

Who would have guessed that all this passion, all this devotion, lay underneath the mild, bumbling exterior of Constable Renfield Turnbull? Vecchio, obviously. Fraser, perhaps, but probably not. And now him. Nobody on the receiving end of that kind of love could fail to be awed by it. It made sense to him now, the thing that had been puzzling him ever since he and Fraser had become lovers. Why would Vecchio want Turnbull when he had Fraser? This was why.

Not for the first time, he wondered what Vecchio was really like. And then put the thought aside to tend to the exhausted weight of Turnbull's body, shifting him into a more comfortable position. Turnbull tried to lift his head, his hair now dark with sweat, but Ray drew it back onto his shoulder.

"'S okay, Renny. Just stay here." He wriggled a little still holding the Canadian in the loose cradle of his arms and legs. "Lemme just hold you, okay?"

*

It was no more unusual, these days, to arrive at the Consulate and find Ray's GTO parked outside than it had been, a year ago, to find the other Ray's Buick Riviera, but it always put an extra little spring in Renny's step as he entered the Consulate. The last few days had been rather trying; he knew that something serious was developing, but, as usual, he was being kept totally in the dark about it. Well, there wasn't much he could do about that… he was hanging his coat in the closet when Ray wandered out of Fraser's office, scrubbing at his head and yawning..

"Hey, Renny. Good to see ya." Ray grinned and then yawned again. "Sorry. Was up half the night sittin' in a damn alley with a bunch of rats. Second night in a row, fer God's sake."

He accepted this information with no obvious response, but he shuddered inside. He wasn't very fond of rats. "Is Fraser…" he let the question tail off delicately.

"Getting' dressed in his uniform." Another yawn. "Ya think I could get some coffee?"

Reminded of his obligations as host, Renny started. "Of course. It'll only take a moment. Why don't you go into the library?"

As he'd expected, Fraser had joined Ray by the time the coffee and tea was made. Renny placed the tray carefully on the table and handed Ray his mug and a small bowl of Smarties. Fraser helped himself to the teapot, but reserved the larger part of his concentration for the pile of his father's journals.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Renny crouched between their chairs, looking from Fraser to Ray and back again.

Fraser simply grunted abstractedly, but Ray handed him a journal. Fraser thinks there'll be somethin' in these about Muldoon."

He took the small volume from Ray and glanced through it. The entries were annotated, though what the notes were supposed to mean was not clear, at first. Renny frowned and flicked over a couple of pages, then selected another volume at random and leafed through the pages, mentally noting anything that looked like a clue.

"See, everything my father ever did is in here. Cross referenced by criminal and by crime." Fraser frowned down at the page before him, turned the page, and frowned again.

This was exactly the kind of puzzle Renny most enjoyed. Gradually the neatly inscribed notes in the margins began to make sense. "Now the filing is a little crude… but brilliant… To find Muldoon…"

Renny straightened up and began to pace. He always thought better on his feet and it was easier to tune out what Ray and Fraser were discussing when he wasn't kneeling between them. Pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a suddenness that he'd come to expect in such situations. It was as much instinct as deduction that helped him solve these riddles. "Aha! You see! I find Muldoon by simply flipping to page six of… volume nine." He found the journal and flipped it open to the correct page, then handed it to Fraser.

The writing on this page was not quite as neat, betraying an inner turmoil, perhaps. Certainly the words were moving; redolent with regret. …I'd have rearranged the landscape, torn down the mountains, and diverted the rivers to catch Muldoon; and I only had the slimmest of clues. He always managed to be where no one expected him to be. And usually that was where he had just been...

Ray lowered the journal he'd been reading. "Anything?"

"He doubles back on himself."

"The alley. Why did I know it was gonna be the alley?" Ray groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

*

After the alarms and exertions of the night, it ought to be easy for him to sleep, but here it was, past two a.m. and Ben was still awake. Ray snuffled quietly against his shoulder and, on Ray's other side, Turnbull muttered something indistinguishable and then subsided again. The fact was they were all on edge, none of them more so than him. So much so that instead of going back to Ray's apartment after the incident in the alley, Ben had suggested they come here.

The sense that something was about to happen had left him now. The reappearance of Holloway Muldoon, the involvement of the FBI, not to mention being attacked with a grenade launcher… whatever it was that he'd been waiting for, this had to be it. Usually, that would be enough to ease his tension, but this time he was just as unsettled as he had been for the last few days. Before he could disturb the others with his restlessness, Ben slipped out of the bed and drew on his boxer shorts. Perhaps a drink of milk might help him relax.

Resisting the temptation to drink from the carton, Ben found a glass in the immaculate kitchen cupboard and leaned back against the counter while he slowly drank the milk. The rich taste of it filled his mouth and swirled rather queasily down his throat, but the memories of childhood treats of "real" milk, as opposed to the powdered milk he'd drunk most of the time, comforted him.

As he lowered the glass from the last long swallow, he saw Turnbull standing in the kitchen doorway. His long, rangy body was still bare but it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Ben, who had always been more reticent, blushed slightly, unable to match his more casual attitude to nudity.

Turnbull smiled a little sleepily at him. "I woke and you were gone. Ray's still sleeping."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." And, in fact, he would have preferred to be alone, but he could hardly say that.

"You didn't." Turnbull hesitated a moment, the smile wavering a little. "I miss him too."

The simple, factual statement demolished all his carefully erected defences in a moment. He saw Turnbull register that fact and then take two quick strides to reach him. Long arms wrapped themselves around his body, drawing him close, and the cheek pressed against his was wet. He hadn't thought, hadn't allowed himself to think, about Turnbull's loneliness, with not even the comfort of another lover to ease it. He should have been more diligent in following Ray's request to look after Turnbull, but it had been so painful, those first few weeks, that not even his new relationship with Ray Kowalski could take away the discomfort he felt in being in this apartment. And, if he were totally honest, he'd never really accepted Turnbull as anything more than a rather unwanted encumbrance foisted upon him by Ray Vecchio.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of Turnbull's sandy head offering what wordless comfort he was capable of giving. Turnbull's arms tightened around him and Ben stroked the long, broad back gently. It seemed as though, now that he'd openly admitted the loneliness he'd been denying all these months, Turnbull could no longer hold back his emotions. Uncomfortable as that made him feel… uncomfortable as his own emotions made him, Ben could not abandon the younger Mountie now.

"Turnbull… he will come back…" It was weak comfort that he offered, and Ben bit his bottom lip uncertainly. He simply wasn't good in situations like this. Ray would have known what to do… either Ray could have handled this better than him.

Turnbull's head lifted and his flushed and tearful face hovered uncomfortably close to Ben's. "I know he will, but…" the long angular face crumpled slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

He liked Turnbull, in those rare moments when he wasn't being irritated by the younger man's clumsiness or his frequent inability to grasp what seemed like the most basic of concepts. Turnbull was good with hard, indisputable facts. Or with creative endeavours such as art and cooking; but what had possessed him to become a Mountie, Ben had never been able to figure out. Or how he'd managed to make it through training.

But right now, Ben was aware of a certain amount of fellow feeling… they both loved Ray. They both missed him terribly, and what should have drawn them closer together, had, because of his thoughtlessness, kept them well and truly apart. Well, it was not too late, even now, to remedy that. Ben brushed the tears away from Turnbull's cheeks with his fingertips and laid his hand, palm flat, against the hot skin. Turnbull's eyes widened slightly.

After a moment's indecision they kissed, then kissed again… slow, comforting, and undemanding. Until, gradually, Ben became aware of a soft insistence pressing against his groin.

Turnbull pulled back suddenly. "I'm sorry… I'll…"

"No. Don't go." Ben slid his hands down to Turnbull's sturdy hips and drew him closer.

They kissed again, more sensually now, as they both accepted where it was going to lead. It was, Ben realised, ironic, that Turnbull of all people, should be the only one to understand how he felt. Ray couldn't, and couldn't in all fairness be expected to. Only Turnbull knew, and that was because he felt the same sense of loss. The loss of one person so much a part of him that no other, however much loved, could possibly replace him.

He should have recognised this sooner. Instead, he'd selfishly avoided coming here to visit Turnbull, who was not only his lover, as well as Ray's, but also his subordinate, his responsibility. He'd wanted to avoid the memories of Ray that this apartment always invoked. But that had meant Turnbull had been without his support all these months, surrounded by Ray's possessions and constant reminders of his absence. Ray would have expected better than that from him. He'd failed both of them. And still Turnbull responded with a generosity that Ben had not even thought to offer.

Slowly, his body began to respond as Turnbull's arousal became more pronounced. He'd never been particularly attracted to Turnbull; his preference, obviously, was for tall slender men, and if it hadn't been for Ray, Ben would never have considered making love with him. But right now he was finding the silent intimacy of their bodies' touching unexpectedly arousing. Then Turnbull eased away from him a little. Just enough to slide his long bony fingers between their bodies and unfasten Ben's boxers, smooth the cloth out of the way, and take the swelling cock into his hand.

Ben gasped as his cock was gently stroked, and then Turnbull carefully eased back the foreskin. A delicate touch on the exposed cockhead sent a wash of heat and exquisite sensation through his body, but held firmly between Turnbull's larger frame and the counter at his back, Ben couldn't thrust as he wished to. Even that minor restraint felt good.

After a moment Turnbull pressed against him trapping their cocks, side by side, between their bodies. The slow movement of Turnbull's hips, and the glide of his cock against Ben's, sent shivers through them both and Ben sought his mouth again. He flattened his hands in the curve of Turnbull's lower back, resisting the temptation to encourage the easy thrusting into something more energetic. Let Turnbull set the pace… he seemed to know what Ben needed, even better than he did himself.

The tickle of hair against his chest was mirrored by the soft coarseness of Turnbull's pubic hair against his cock and, even more arousing, against his exposed and sensitive cockhead. Though he'd been slower to start, it wasn't long before Ben was coming in a long aching shiver of pleasure. Once again Turnbull began to retreat, but Ben pulled him back.

"Finish it, Turnbull… I want you to…" his voice caught on a gasp as more heat gushed against his belly and the large body sagged against him. Turnbull buried his sweaty face in the base of his throat, and Ben stroked his hair, feeling a rush of unexpected tenderness.

But it was Turnbull who ended it a moment later, prosaically cleaning them both with a couple of paper towels and then, of all things, turning away to rinse out the glass before putting it into the dishwasher. Ben took the reprieve offered, gaining control of his emotions, at least on the surface, and putting his boxers to rights again. It was only after Turnbull came back to him, with one of those wide, slightly vacant smiles on his face that Ben realised the respite had been deliberate.

It had worked. He was able to muster enough self-confidence to suggest that they return to the bedroom. Five minutes later he was still wide-awake, with Turnbull curled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder and fast asleep.

On Turnbull's far side a stirring among the bedding signalled Ray's wakefulness. Ben wondered, in a bout of silent hysteria, whether this would herald another round of lovemaking in the kitchen.

"You okay, Frase?" Ray's pale eyes watched him carefully from across Turnbull's broad shoulders.

"I'm just not sleepy." Ben sighed, hoping his lover would let it rest. He would prefer not to analyse his tangled emotions right now.

Surprisingly enough that was exactly what Ray did, sinking down behind Turnbull and reaching a hand across his body to twine his fingers with Ben's. "Okay. Well… g'night…"

And once again he was alone with his thoughts.

*

Chicago might be Ray Vecchio's home, but the city meant nothing to Armando Langoustini; and it was Armando Langoustini who swept out of the First Class section of the plane and into O'Hare Airport, leaving his companions to deal with the luggage while he waited in the limo. It would be a dangerous meet, but nothing he hadn't done before. All he had to do was check into his hotel and wait. Once he was contacted the negotiations would start. The stakes might be frighteningly high, but the game was always the same.

And, of course, it made no difference to Armando Langoustini that he was in the same city as a couple of Mounties who had little in common except for their devotion to the ideals of the RCMP and their love for a certain Ray Vecchio. No difference at all.

Five hours later, Armando needed to reassess that situation, with respect to at least one of those Mounties. He stared into Benton Fraser's overjoyed face and felt his world dissolving around him. Caught somewhere between Armando and Ray, he froze, and nearly got them all killed.

*

So this was Ray Vecchio. He'd seen photos, of course, and wondered privately what the Hell they'd been thinking to offer him the job of taking over his life. They didn't look even remotely alike. Now that he'd met the guy in person he was even less impressed. Sure, it must have been a shock to have his cover blown like that, but if Vecchio didn't get it together soon Muldoon was going to kill the both of them.

Even Fraser was looking worried, and that was the kind of thing that tended to make Ray very nervous. He was going to do that talk them into submission thing and this time Ray had the feeling it was more likely to get them killed than save them. He told Fraser to shut up almost without thinking. Bad move… Muldoon picked up on the name immediately. Lucky that Fraser was a common enough name.

"Who are you?"

Vecchio's voice distracted him from his thoughts. Not that he was having any brilliant ideas so far. "Who? Me?"

"Yeah. You."

He stared up at Vecchio. What was he up to now? He sure didn't look like he wanted to help them out. Ray decided to stall for time, at least until he got a better idea of where this was headed. Vecchio should know damn well who he was, so why was he asking? "Uh… whaddaya mean?"

"What do they call ya?"

He cast around desperately for inspiration. "Who?" Great. Talk about dumb ass…

Apparently Vecchio thought so too. He glared around the room impatiently. "Am I still speaking English here, or what?" Getting confirmation on that point from one of his goons, he aimed his gun straight at Ray's face.

Okay, seemed like he really wanted an answer… "Oh, you mean my name? Oh that…" he dug on his pocket. Might as well raise the stakes a little. He held out his wallet. "Here."

Vecchio glanced at it. "Ray Vecchio, Chicago PD."

Suddenly every gun in the room was trained on them and Muldoon was arguing with Vecchio over who'd blown their meeting. It was only a matter of time before Muldoon figured out who Fraser was. There was only one way for Vecchio to take back control of the room and he took it. Ray followed Fraser into the bathroom and they both turned to look into Vecchio's expressionless face.

The gun was pointing directly at Fraser. It shifted slightly as Vecchio fired into the wall beside him. Fraser crumpled gracefully to the floor with a thud. Now it was turned on him. Ray's mouth went dry. Vecchio was supposed to be on his side, but his eyes were those of a cold-blooded killer. Vecchio's finger tightened on the trigger and Ray was falling before he was even sure he hadn't been shot. He lay with his eyes closed and his heart pounding as Vecchio left the bathroom.

*

He could feel Fraser's sombre gaze on the back of his neck. During the ride back to the stationhouse it had begun to sink in to the Mountie that things had changed. He'd seen it happening, once the first rush of excitement wore off.

"…Muldoon has weaponry for sale and a buyer he just needs somebody to broker the deal. So the ATF places two agents a Khalil and a Cartwright. Muldoon makes the agents and kills them both. So the ATF suspect an inside leak. They turn to the FBI who turns to me, Armando Langoustini. The Mob brokers the deal."

Ray Vecchio paused and looked around the room. Everybody was listening to him. Even Frannie was silent. Waiting to hear what he and he alone could tell them. As if he was important or something… Nobody seemed to notice that he was falling to pieces inside.

It still terrified him how close he had come to allowing Armando simply to kill Fraser and the Bag Lady rather than to lose his cover. For one horrifying moment it had seemed like the most reasonable thing to do, and it had been Muldoon, not Ray, who had prevented it. Muldoon, who had decided that he needed to know more about the two intruders, giving Ray enough time to realise that he somehow had to take back his life from this stranger on the couch and become Ray Vecchio again.

And he'd tried. The words he'd spoken to himself in the mirror had been meant as a message to himself that it was over, that it was okay to be Ray Vecchio again. When Fraser and the other guy came out of the bathroom, he'd launched into his favourite method of getting one over on the Mountie. A nice long tirade about the way Benton Fraser had screwed up his life yet again.

It hadn't worked. He'd felt stiff and unnatural, like he'd put on the skin of a dead, dried out corpse. Fraser, of course, hadn't noticed. Hell, he hadn't even noticed that the Bag Lady and he got along about as well together as chalk and cheese. But Ray had noticed something. Fraser and the Bag Lady were lovers.

"…All right we've got to move. Huey and Dewey you run down the location the whole layout all right? Francesca pull everything on Muldoon, any possible connection."

He blinked. It seemed like a decision had been reached, and he'd been a part of it, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"…Fraser, you run it from your end. All right we got six hours let's use them."

The meeting was breaking up. Fraser left, without saying a word… and who'd ever have believed that was possible? Ray threw a glance at his alter ego and they both headed for the door.

"Oh, Ray...."

"Yeah ?" Two voices answered. They both turned, still in the doorway. Ray froze. For a moment he had the wildest feeling that it was all a dream, that he wasn't really Ray Vecchio. He was really Armando Langoustini pretending to be Ray Vecchio pretending to be Langoustini.

Even Welsh looked disturbed. "No, I mean… oh, Geez, this is going to be confusing, huh?" he pointed towards Ray. "Look… you be Ray Vecchio 'cause you were Ray Vecchio to start with..."

"Right." He accepted it as calmly as though he'd never doubted it in his life, and turned a level stare on his impersonator. Just let him try that smart ass 'you're not you' trick again…

But he didn't, just looked at Welsh uncertainly. "And who am I?"

"Good question." Welsh considered it briefly. "You can be Stanley Kowalski."

That got Ray's attention. He grinned. "Stanley Kowalski?"

Kowalski shifted uneasily and didn't answer. Welsh explained. "His father had a big thing for Marlon Brando."

"So... uh... I just..." Kowalski shuffled his feet and looked away for a moment, then, appealingly, at Welsh. But Welsh was already moving on to the next item on his agenda. Ray met his eyes, watched him register the fact that he'd lucked out, and glanced down trying not to look too pleased. "…okay."

Ray smirked, but left it to Armando to push the knife in a little more firmly. "Later, Stanley." As Kowalski left at last he shut the door firmly behind him. "Sir." He moved forward purposefully. He needed to find out what the plans were that he'd just agreed to.

*

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Ray didn't need to look to know who was speaking. The other guy. The fake Ray Vecchio. The… he tried to throttle back his instinctive anger. A bit. This was the guy who'd taken over his life, taken Fraser… probably Renny as well. "How can you work in this mess?"

"No worse than… uh... the piles of crap you left all over the place."

"Yeah, well my piles of crap were organised." He dumped one handful of files on top of another pile, ignoring the slouching figure in front of him.

Kowalski shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but his voice remained calm and reasonable. "My mess is organised."

"Well, why don't you just organise it some place else?" He straightened up, hands on hips, and silently challenged the scrawny little jerk to do something about it.

"Okay." Still sounding unnaturally reasonable, Kowalski grabbed the files and flung them violently across the Bullpen. "Is that good?"

Outwardly, Ray didn't move a muscle, but he felt his body tense. He met Kowalski's stare with apparent calm. "You got a problem?"

He got a full on glare in return. "Maybe, just maybe I don't like the way you're sashaying around trying to take over everything."

He was taking over? That was rich! Ray leaned over the desk, jabbing a finger at Kowalski, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury. "This is my desk, it's my life, now get over it."

Kowalski snorted angrily. "Well you get over this." Almost before Ray realised what was happening, Kowalski had grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled back a fist, ready to let fly.

It was all the excuse Ray needed. He grabbed Kowalski's T-shirt with both hands, hesitating between shoving him across the room and pulling him in for a knee to the family jewels. But before anything serious could get started, Frannie seemed to appear out of nowhere to pull them apart.

"Okay, okay. All right, back off Kowalski that's my brother you're talking to so just stay out of his face." She turned to Ray as Kowalski backed away, still glaring. "And you! Did they give you testosterone shots in the mob or what?"

It stopped him in his tracks. Only a kid sister could make him feel like such a jerk. His eyes refused to meet hers and the anger faded to a cold sick sensation in his gut. She glanced from him to Kowalski and back again, making shooing motions. "Work!"

He looked across at Kowalski, sitting on the edge of a spare desk with his head hanging dejectedly. Shit. Much as he'd like to blame the guy for everything, he knew he was being unfair. "Listen, I uh-"

Kowalski raised a hand without looking up. "Hey. Forget about it." He sighed. "It's just... uh… It's, you know, so sudden. Look, I knew you were coming back, I just didn't… think it would be, uh… so soon, so...."

"I know. It feels like you died and you didn't get everything done." He watched Kowalski turn away and start to pick up the scattered papers. God, he knew exactly how Kowalski was feeling. Which meant that maybe Kowalski was the only person in the world who knew how he felt. He wished it could be anybody but Kowalski, because he sure as Hell didn't want to feel sorry for him. "You know, that's how I felt when I walked out of here."

Kowalski didn't respond for a moment and he hesitated, wondering whether he should offer to help or just leave it alone. Then Kowalski turned to look him in the eye. "How's Vegas been?"

He shrugged helplessly. He couldn't even begin to answer that. "Undercover's lonely."

"That it is." Wisely, Kowalski left it at that and just carried on with the clean up.

Ray went over to help. He picked up a few files and laid them on the desk. "Well, you got Fraser."

He'd only meant it to be a friendly comment, but Kowalski glanced at him with a resentful gleam in his eyes. Anger stirred in Ray again and he stared at Kowalski, hands on hips, silently challenging him. For a moment he thought they might start another fight. Then Kowalski laughed. "Right."

He knew what that laugh meant. Knew it to the depths of his soul, if he still had one. Fraser… the weird, wonderful force of nature that was Benton Fraser. Unexpectedly, Ray found himself laughing too.

*

The Consulate had moved. Ray vaguely remembered hearing something about that from Renny before he left. Kowalski had offered to drive him over and Ray had accepted, since he wasn't entirely sure where the Consulate was any more. In spite of their spat earlier they'd discovered, somewhat to the surprise of both of them, that it was possible to almost like each other. He hoped, without much confidence, that Renny wouldn't be there. But at least it was a relief to go into the new building and not to have any memories of past visits.

The détente didn't last much past the front door. He followed Kowalski through the reception area and down the narrow back hallway feeling an unreasonable resentment at the other man's obvious familiarity with the place. Kowalski pushed open a door and Ray shouldered past him into a tiny office. Fraser was in there, wearing his red uniform. Lust exploded in heart-pounding, knee-weakening pulses and he fought the almost overpowering urge to shove Fraser up against the wall and take him then and there. Just take him hard and fast, whether Fraser wanted him or not. Just take him... the way Armando Langoustini took anything he wanted.

Ray dragged in a shuddering breath and shoved his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking.

"Ray!" It was Laurier's voice, behind him. He spun on his heels. Laurier, in RCMP uniform, with the beard shaved off and his hair shorter on top... "Ray, it's so good to..."

He watched the delighted smile crumble, unable to move even the frozen muscles of his face. This was all going horribly, terribly wrong. His stomach roiled dangerously. "Where's the john?"

"I'll show you." Renny summoned up a weak smile.

He pushed past the younger Mountie. "Just tell me, for God's sake."

"Uh... through the Ice Queen's office. On the other side of the hall." It was Kowalski who supplied the information, his voice tense with barely repressed anger.

He made it just in time. It didn't seem to help any, but then he'd never imagined the nausea was due to anything he'd eaten. Ray rinsed his mouth out, and splashed water on his face, trying to clear his head, settle his nerves a bit.

Fraser and Kowalski were there in Thatcher's office when he came out, standing apart, not talking, not looking any too happy. Then Thatcher arrived. She greeted him with her accustomed lack of enthusiasm and it was almost a relief to find something from his former life he could still relate to. And it didn't take long to figure out that she saw a career opportunity in this mess. No wonder she was so... perky. Ray suppressed a shudder and was relieved to find that she would be pairing up with Kowalski for tonight's meet, even if that mean he was going to be sitting alone in a car with Fraser.

There was no sign of Renny and that could only be a good thing. He'd known it would be difficult seeing Renny again, but still hadn't been able to repress his instinctive fight/flight reaction. It would be better for Renny, for all of them, if he kept well away.

 

*

They'd been sitting in silence for too long. Ben stirred uncomfortably. It wasn't as though they hadn't spent far longer periods alone together without feeling the need to talk. This was different. The easy familiarity that had always existed between them, almost from their first meeting, had gone. Ray was a stranger… a cold, distant stranger, with an aura of violence about him that chilled Ben to the bone. He couldn't begin to imagine what he could say to the man Ray had become. Even Dief, sitting in the back but poking his nose between them, seemed uncommonly subdued.

Eventually, Ray stirred and looked across at him. "You know Benny, the desert's okay and Nero does a great buttermilk but this is the stuff I miss..."

"Like old times, eh?" Ben tried to smile but his voice sounded hollow.

"Yeah..." Ray frowned slightly. "You remember that time you locked us in that vault..."

"…and the water kept rising until we… we almost drowned." Ben watched Ray unobtrusively, wondering where this was leading. It wasn't exactly one of his happier memories. They'd spent most of the time in that vault arguing.

Ray turned to face him. "Yeah... You know what I just said about missing all this...?"

Ben felt his throat tightening. He nodded awkwardly. "Uh huh…"

"Forget I ever said it." Ray's voice was quiet, empty of emotion.

"Understood." As Ray leaned forward to replace his fake moustache, Ben closed his eyes briefly and bowed his head. Only a few hours ago he'd felt an almost unbearable joy at seeing Ray again. Now Ray was telling him it was over. So this was how it all ended... not in the heat of a fight, but with calm indifference. How could it possibly hurt so much?

*

The last of Muldoon's henchmen disappeared behind a knot of terrified shoppers and Ray Kowalski pulled up with a curse. He'd been off his game tonight and it had showed. Just the fact that he'd tried to talk about his insecurities with the Ice Queen, of all people, was proof of that. He was lost, in more ways than one. Somewhere behind him Fraser and Thatcher were taking on Muldoon, and Vecchio had disappeared in that direction too. He turned back towards the fairground rides.

He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Fraser and Thatcher were clinging to the ferris wheel and below them Muldoon was taking aim at Fraser. Ray lifted his gun. He was too far away to have any real hope of hitting Muldoon, but maybe he could get a bullet close enough to ruin his aim. He fired, knowing it was already too late, and saw Vecchio throw himself between Muldoon and Fraser, taking Muldoon's bullet for his lover. Falling.

Despite their differences, there was nothing that brought a chill to a cop's blood faster than the sight of another cop taking a bullet. Ray was running before it even occurred to him that Muldoon might be aiming at him next. But Muldoon hadn't lasted all these years by taking unnecessary risks. He was already out of sight. Ray glanced up again at Fraser and saw the look of utter devastation on his face, then he was dropping to his knees beside Vecchio's body.

The wound was high up in Vecchio's chest, dangerously close to the heart. Ray dragged out his cell phone and dialled 911one handed while he put pressure on the wound with the other. Vecchio didn't move, but Ray could feel the weak thud of his heartbeat. Still alive, but he didn't look good. Huey appeared out of nowhere and Ray tossed him the cell phone, heard him giving the 'Officer down' warning that would guarantee an immediate response, then turned his attention back to Vecchio.

He was already very pale, his skin cold and clammy, breathing fast and shallow. At least he was still breathing. "Hold on, Vecchio, just keep it together. Help's on the way, okay?"

Vecchio gave no sign of having heard him. Ray dragged out a handkerchief and pressed it against the wound with both hands. There was a lot of blood, but it wasn't spurting the way it would if an artery was nicked. There was still hope.

"Ray?"

At that moment Ray didn't know, and couldn't have cared less, which of them Fraser was talking to. He looked up into Fraser's distraught face. "He's still alive."

Fraser drooped to his knees on Vecchio's other side and took hold of his hand. He reached out to touch Vecchio's cheek with trembling fingers. "Ray…"

"He'll be okay, Frase. The paramedics'll be here any minute." He looked over at Huey, who was staring at them both. "They're coming, right?"

"Yeah." Huey seemed in shock too. "I'll go meet them. Show them where to come."

Others were gathering round now, but Fraser seemed oblivious to them all. He knelt in silence with Vecchio's hand clasped against his chest, watching Vecchio's face. At this moment, Ray would gladly have changed places with Vecchio. Would Fraser look like that if it was him on the ground? Maybe. Maybe not. But he'd give anything not to see that lost look in Fraser's eyes.

*

Funny how some things never change. Even after all he'd been through, the instinct to protect Benny was still there. Just as it had been that first time, when he'd pushed the Mountie out the window and taken the full force of Drake's booby trap. Or when he'd thrown himself at Benny, knowing full well that he'd be taking a bullet in the back from Dr Carter's gun.

You'd think by now he would have gotten over it, but no… one glimpse of Muldoon aiming his gun and Ray had flung himself forward without so much as a second thought. And now he was back in a hospital bed with a very sad and sorry looking Mountie staring down at him, just as he had all those years ago when Ray had taken the force of that blast in Frankie Drake's apartment. And Ray found that he wouldn't have changed a thing. Maybe it took getting shot to bring him back to his senses.

But right now the Mountie had a job to do. Muldoon was dangerous. Benny ought to be going after Muldoon, not hanging around a hospital waiting to see if he was all right. There was no time for getting things straight between them, either, even if Ray had the energy. Which he didn't right now, so he did the only thing he could do.

It was harder than he expected to muster the energy to speak. "Do you Mounties still always get your men?"

Benny looked taken aback for a moment. "We try to."

"Go get him, Benny." Ray managed a weak smile

It seemed like he understood what Ray couldn't quite manage to say out loud. A faint smile curled those pretty lips and, for once, there wasn't a hint of Armando Langoustini in Ray's response. Then he closed his eyes with a sigh. When Benny got back they could sort things out.

*

Ray Kowalski watched from a distance as Holloway Muldoon was loaded onto a helicopter, handcuffed between two of the biggest Mounties Ray had ever seen. He grinned, glad to see the last of that scumbag, glad that the adventure was over. So much had happened since he'd left Chicago with Fraser that it seemed like he'd lived a lifetime in just a few days.

"Ray!"

He turned to see Renny striding towards him across the snow. "Hey, buddy, how's it going?" He hugged Renny enthusiastically.

They'd met briefly after the shootout, but there had been too much to do for them to be able to talk. Fraser had disappeared after Muldoon and hadn't yet returned, and there had been the wounded from both sides to care for. But now the wounded and Cyrus Bolt's goons had all been flown out. Muldoon was the last to go.

"Isn't this exhilarating Ray?" Renny was bubbling with enthusiasm. "Welcome to Canada."

Ray laughed. He'd seen a lot more of Canada than he would ever have imagined, and surprisingly, he'd liked it. Apart from jumping out of planes, climbing mountains and falling down ice crevasses. And all that snow… "Good to see ya here. You seen Fraser?"

"He's over there, talking to Sergeant Frobisher." Renny pointed to a small stand of trees beside the cabin and Ray finally saw the two figures, almost invisible against the trees' darkness.

"Okay. Thanks." He started in their direction, but Renny put a hand on his arm.

"I wouldn't just now, Ray." Renny was unusually serious. "I think he wants to talk to Sgt Frobisher about his mother."

"Frobisher's mother?" Ray frowned. What did she have to do with anything?

Renny smiled, as though he thought Ray was joking. "No, Fraser's mother, Ray. Now that he's caught her killer, I'm sure he..." he stopped as he saw Ray's confusion. "Muldoon killed Fraser's mother twenty nine years ago. Sgt Frobisher told us."

A cold sensation gripped his guts as Ray switched his stare from Renny's face to the two distant figures. Fraser had known all that time and hadn't even told him? After all they'd been through together in the last few days, Ray had thought there were no barriers between them now, but obviously Fraser didn't feel the same way. How could someone not tell his partner, his lover, about something as important as that?

"Uh… I gotta…. I'll just…" he started walking away, without any idea what direction he was going in, except that it was away from Fraser. It wasn't as thought they hadn't had plenty of time to talk about stuff. Last night, for instance... all that stuff Fraser had said about partnership. At the time Ray had assumed that he was saying he wouldn't be partnering with Vecchio when they got back to Chicago, but maybe…

"Ray…" Renny called after him. "Ray, wait!" He stopped and waited for Renny to catch up with him. "Ray, I'm sure Fraser would have told you… he only recently found out himself…" Renny's face was crumpled with worry.

"Sure he would." Ray tried to smile. "When he found time… ya know… I mean, it's not like we're going anywhere." He gestured around at the snowy wilderness. "Anyway, why should he tell me? I'm just the guy he fu…" he turned away and started walking again, before he made himself look even more pathetic.

A large hand caught his arm in a firm grip. "Ray, you mustn't wander off alone. It's very easy to get lost here. Come back to the cabin."

"Yeah, whatever." He shrugged and followed Renny back toward the cabin.

At least half of Frobisher's trainee Mounties, as well as the Ice Queen, had left with the bad guys, so there was room in the cabin for the four of them to sleep, even if not comfortably. It also meant there was no privacy to talk. After a few hours of listening to the others talking, and feeling excluded by their Mountieness, Ray wandered out to look at the moon. Dief followed him.

"Hey boy." He leaned down to ruffle the pale coat. "Guess you feel right at home here. Guess Fraser does too."

"Yes, I do, Ray." Fraser's quiet voice, coming from behind him, made Ray jump.

He turned to face his lover. "So yer staying? Or going back to Vecchio?" Either way, he lost. It made him feel strangely calm to realise that.

"Ray." Fraser bowed his head and shrugged. "I thought I'd made it clear last night… you're my partner. So is Ray Vecchio."

"The real Ray Vecchio." That's what they all thought of him; the not real Ray Vecchio.

"Yes." Surprisingly, Fraser smiled. "And you're the real Ray Kowalski. Isn't that better than pretending to be someone else?"

"I dunno. Is it?" His stare challenged Fraser.

Fraser started waking towards the trees. "Come here, Ray."

"Why?" He got no answer. Ray shrugged and trudged after him. "Fraser, what…"

Once they came under the shadow of the trees, Ray found himself taken in a firm grasp and thoroughly kissed. He was still gasping for breath afterwards when he heard Fraser's soft chuckle. "Trust me, Ray."

"Sure." This was familiar ground. How many times had the Mountie said that before trying out some new and exciting way to make love? But… out here, in the snow? "What do ya wanna do?"

"No." Fraser's voice was just a faint sigh against his cheek. Lips brushed over the warm spot left by his breath. "Trust me, Ray."

Oh. Ray tried to relax, but he was too wound up, too full of insecurities. He swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat. Fraser kissed him again, walking him backwards until his back was pressed up against a tree. Nobody would be able to see them from the cabin now.

Ray's lips parted and his tongue slid across Fraser's pouty bottom lip. A soft moan escaped him. They kissed in silence for a long time until Ray's body ached and his lips felt sore. Trapped between Fraser's body and the tree, he still managed to push his groin against Fraser's, and even through the layers of clothing, he could feel the matching arousal. The fact that they weren't going to be able to do anything about it only added to the excitement.

His fingers had somehow gotten tangled in Fraser's thick hair. Reluctantly, he released his grip and leaned his head back against the tree trunk. His lips were tingling and his cock throbbing gently.

"Trust me, Ray?" Fraser bent his head and nibbled delicately at Ray's throat.

Ray laughed breathlessly. "Yeah. I guess." After all, what choice did he have?

*

How could so much have changed in just a few days? There'd been too much time, in the hospital, for Ray to think about that. Not to mention the other things he'd much rather not be thinking about. Such as Benny, disappearing off into the wilderness. Again. With Kowalski. Frannie had told him that Renny had gone too, with the Dragon Lady. God only knew what would happen to them all... Muldoon was a damned dangerous man. On the third day he'd discharged himself, mainly because he couldn't stand lying helplessly in a hospital bed while his lovers were in danger.

And then there was his own position to consider. His FBI contact had managed to pass him a message that his former assistants were being kept well away from any telephones, a condition that could well be permanent for them, if they could be convinced to take witness protection. It meant that Armando Langoustini would be able to disappear, hopefully without trace.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't stop someone like John Laurier from trying to find him. And the first place Laurier would look would be the last place Armando had visited… Chicago. Somehow he had to get himself out of town, and also make sure that neither of his lovers, or Kowalski, was around when Laurier arrived. That wasn't going to be easy

The Twenty-Seventh Precinct had been in a state of barely controlled chaos when he'd finally got there. Even Lt. Welsh had been pleased to see him. In all the fuss, he'd barely noticed Stella Kowalski, and it wasn't until hours later that he'd realised just what that name signified.

He'd flirted with her of course. She was his 'type', or would have been if he'd had any real interest in women since Benny had come along. Flirting was his natural reaction to any smart, slim, sharply dressed woman; it didn't mean a thing. He'd been far too worried about his Mounties to put much of an effort into it. At least, until it occurred to him that Stella Kowalski could be very useful to him.

Yesterday, he'd got the news that they were all safe, and Muldoon was on his way to the nearest Canadian jail cell in the company of half a dozen of Canada's finest. And that Kowalski, high on the pure Canadian air, no doubt, was planning on dragging Benny even further north in search of the Hand of Franklin, whatever that was. That was when everything seemed to fall neatly into place.

The quiet click of high heels alerted senses attuned to the slightest hint of danger. Ray turned his head and smiled as he rose from his chair. "Hello Stella."

"Ray." Stella smiled, blushing slightly. "You have no idea how disconcerting it is to have to call you that."

"Oh, I think I've got some idea." He took her hand and squeezed it lightly, then ushered her into her chair. "I won't ask you to call me Armando, though." He smiled roguishly.

They paused then, to look through their menus. Ray already knew what he'd be ordering. He knew this restaurant very well. "Will you allow me to order for you?"

"Certainly. That's very... gentlemanly of you." Stella tilted her head, considering him. "Quite old fashioned, but I don't mind."

"My mother taught me how to behave towards a lady." Ray turned aside to give the waiter his order and waited for him to move away. "Stella, I know we haven't known each other very long, but I feel... that I can trust you."

Her eyes focused on his face, studying him. She was far from stupid. Not that he'd ever had any doubts on that score. "Yes, Ray?"

"I need to leave Chicago." He smiled ruefully. "With all due respect to your ex-husband, the cover that he provided won't hold up once... shall we say, interested parties start looking for explanations. It was never part of the plan for me to come out of cover the way it happened."

"Aren't the FBI involved?" Stella paused as their appetisers were placed in front of them. When the waiter retreated, she leaned forward. "Surely they have some kind of back up plan?"

He spread his hands wide in a gesture of helplessness. "Would you be willing to trust them with your life?" He laughed softly. "I really hope your answer's no. You're much too beautiful to die so young."

A tiny smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. "I see your point. But what does it have to do with me?"

"Well..." he'd been toying with his salad, now he looked directly into her eyes. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, Stella, but it seemed to me you might be willing to... take a chance. A new relationship, even a new city... I've always wanted to retire to Florida, now I've got the chance to do it while I'm still young enough to enjoy myself." He smiled seductively. "Even better if I can do it with you."

"I don't know..." Stella lowered her fork. "Ray, it's not so long since I was married to a cop. I don't want to make the same mistake twice."

It gave him pause. He knew, deep inside himself, that he was using her, but he was at least partially attracted to her as well. She deserved better than to be lied to and dragged into a relationship that might have very little to offer her. "Stella, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked on such a short acquaintance. Forget it."

Surprisingly, she shook her head. "No... I didn't mean to... I am interested, but I hardly know you, after all."

The waiter arrived to remove their salads and they sat in silence, sipping wine until the entrees arrived. Ray sighed. "Let's put our cards on the table, shall we? I've told you I need to leave Chicago. I get the feeling from you that a change of scenery might be on your agenda too. We could... pool our resources, keep each other company."

"You'd need to leave soon, I suppose." Stella picked up her fork and delicately speared a sliver of chicken. "How soon?"

"Three days." He said it bluntly, curious as to how she'd take it.

She seemed completely unmoved. "I see... and you want me to leave my job, my life, and come with you."

He shrugged as charmingly as he could manage. "I have my pension sorted out, and my pay for the time I was undercover. It's a nice little nest egg; you wouldn't have to rush to find work down there. Even Florida must need District Attorneys, Stella."

"More than most, I would imagine." She smiled wryly. "All right. I'll come."

He blinked. It had been far too easy. He saw the amusement in her eyes and smiled. "And?"

"And nothing. As long as you understand that I'm not making any commitments, beyond coming with you. I won't expect you to, either."

"Fellow travellers, huh?" Ray leaned back in his chair. "I can go with that. It's a deal."

They chimed their wineglasses together in quiet celebration.

*

"So, I hear you got your man Benny?"

"Ray!" Ben couldn't hold back the smile that came to his face at the sound of Ray Vecchio's voice. He clutched the handset tightly as though that would somehow reduce the static on the line. "Ray, it's good to hear your voice. How are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm doing okay. Taking early retirement actually." There was a lengthy pause. "How about you? And Renny?"

Ben glanced out the window of the small cabin and grinned. Ray had joined Turnbull, Buck Frobisher and Dief in their nightly howl at the moon. "We're both fine. Ray is too… he's enjoying the change of scene."

"Yeah, well, Benny… maybe you can help me out there." A nervous laugh was interrupted by a lengthy burst of static.

Ben frowned, not able to make out much more than the occasional word. "Ray, I'm sorry, you're going to Florida with who?" He swallowed a rising sickness in his stomach. He'd hoped to mend whatever had gone wrong between them when they all returned to Chicago. But if Ray was going to Florida…

"…Stella, Benny. …getting married once we… …bowling alley, Benny. I always…"

The line went suddenly quiet. "Ray, are you still there? Did you say you're marrying Stella Kowalski?" Please God, let him be wrong. He didn't know how Ray would take that piece of news and Turnbull would be devastated that their lover had left them once again. He couldn't even begin to let himself think about his own reactions.

"That's right, Benny." Ray's cheerfulness sounded forced. But then so did his own calmness. "We're flying out tomorrow. How about you? You're planning on staying up there I heard."

"Oh…" Ben wondered who would have told him that. "Well, Ray did say he'd like to find the Hand of Franklin."

"Sounds great. Uh… thing is, can you… I'm just kinda worried about Renny. I don't think he'd be very happy in Chicago with both of us gone. Maybe he could go with you."

Ben felt his eyebrows rise, but he forced his voice to remain even. "I'm sure he can if he wants to."

He waited for Ray to say something, anything, about their relationship. It had seemed that there might be hope the last time he'd seen Ray at the hospital, but perhaps being shot again had been the last straw. A long sigh echoed in his ear. "Well, I'd better go, Fraser. You take care of Renny for me."

There was no time to say more. The line clicked and was silent.

*

In two days they'd be leaving, but for tonight the three of them had the cabin to themselves while Sergeant Frobisher took his trainees on night manoeuvres. They were huddled together in the only bed available, warm but not feeling comforted by it. Renny shifted restlessly and twined his fingers with Ray's. Since he'd heard the news about Stella, Ray had been by turns wild with fury and deeply morose. Not even Fraser had been able to help him. But then, Fraser was hardly in better shape, even if he was more adept at hiding it.

His own emotions were far too painful to be let loose. Ray had left them… left him. Ever since he'd realised he was gay, and that his family would never be able to accept that fact, his life had been rootless, the only anchor his devotion to the RCMP. Ray had changed that… for the first time in his life, Renny had felt accepted for who and what he was. When he'd been with Ray he'd felt at peace. Their relationship might not have been wildly passionate like some he'd known, but Ray had become a loving and stable foundation for his life when he'd badly needed it. The year Ray had spent undercover had been difficult, but survivable. The thought that he had lost Ray forever was almost unendurable.

Of course he would have to carry on somehow, but he didn't know how. Fraser, he admitted to himself, would not particularly care whether he went on their adventure or not. Ray Kowalski seemed to want him, but would probably prefer to be alone with Fraser. He didn't want to go back to a Chicago that was devoid of anybody he cared about.

Beside him Ray stirred restlessly and turned to Fraser. He heard the quiet exchange of words and then the sound of their kissing. Perhaps he should leave. Or just pretend to be asleep. He didn't know if he could do that… his face was already becoming heated, mostly with embarrassment, at his unintentional eavesdropping.

A hand touched his thigh. "Renny? You awake?"

Renny rolled onto his side and snuggled up to Ray's back gratefully. Ray and Fraser had started kissing again, so he nuzzled the back of Ray's neck and breathed in the richer than usual scent of him. Washing up was not as easy here as it was in Chicago. He stroked down over Ray's side, sometimes brushing against Fraser's hand, until he found the turgid length of Ray's cock.

Ray moaned quietly, his voice muffled by Fraser's mouth. Together Renny and Fraser caressed him and occasionally each other. When Ray's head turned towards him, a pale gleam in the darkness of the cabin, Renny thought he saw a dark shadow against Ray's chest. He kissed the thin lips and felt the tickle of hair against his cheek. Fraser. He cupped his hand over Fraser's head, holding it against Ray's chest, and explored Ray's mouth with slow, determined strokes of his tongue.

Mutual comfort gradually gave way to pleasuring. Ray, the focus of both their efforts, writhed between their bodies as each of them indiscriminately caressed him. Finally Renny turned him back towards Fraser and pressed close against his back. His cock slid neatly into place between Ray's buttocks and he began to thrust gently.

After a moment, Fraser had the rhythm too, and their gentle thrusts rocked Ray's body between them. There was no passion, only a need for comfort shared by them all. Ray came first, his body finding release with a long shudder that was echoed by Renny and Fraser almost immediately.

For a while there was only the sound of their breathing, then they sleepily rearranged themselves into a tangle of limbs that ought to be uncomfortable, but somehow wasn't. Ray sighed. "It's gonna be okay. Isn't it?"

"Yes, Ray." Fraser's voice was tenderer than Renny had ever heard it. He kissed the bony shoulder beneath his cheek and remained silent.

*

The team was ready. The sled was packed. Dief was waiting eagerly for them to get started. Ben looked over to where his lover and his colleague were standing. They showed no signs of being ready to leave. With a small sigh, he walked over to them.

"You sure about this Renny?" Ray was looking upset, and Turnbull as determined as only he could. "Ya know he said…"

"I know, Ray." Turnbull smiled at Ray and then straightened into a more formal stance. "I've decided to go back to Chicago, Sir."

"Turnbull, you don't have to…" Ben stopped. "Back to Chicago?" It was obvious that Turnbull wanted to make this official. He was being addressed as a superior officer, not an occasional lover. He pitched his own voice to a more formal tone. "May I know why?"

"I, uh…" as usual, Turnbull began to flounder. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled himself together. "Sir, I believe that's where my duty lies."

Ben's eyebrows slid upwards. Duty, under these circumstances, could only mean Ray Vecchio. And Ray Vecchio was… well, somewhat of a sore point right now. Ben ignored the painful tug in his chest and focussed on the matter at hand. "Turnbull, Ray is in Florida. As far as we know, he has no plans to return."

"But…"

"…and he did send a message suggesting that you join us on this expedition. A suggestion I'm very happy to accept, by the way." Which wasn't entirely true, but Turnbull didn't have to know that.

Except, by the look on his face, Turnbull did know that. "That's very kind, Sir, but, I believe I should return to Chicago."

Ray fidgeted. "But then you'll be alone."

"Ray, it's kind of you to be concerned, but I'll be all right." Turnbull smiled down at the smaller man then exchanged a glance with Ben. "And besides… uh…" he blushed, "I believe some time alone together would be beneficial to both of you."

And that was far too obviously true for any of them to feel comfortable. Ray needed help. Ray Vecchio's return had been difficult for all of them, but particularly for Ray. Their pursuit and capture of Holloway Muldoon had gone some way to reassuring Ray of his own continued interest, and had increased Ray's confidence in himself, but Ben knew that a long period of close companionship was what they both needed. Ray was, he admitted reluctantly, not the only one in need of reassurance. Turnbull, it seemed, was stronger than either of them.

Ray looked from Turnbull to Ben and back again. "You sure? Ya don't havta."

"I know." With another smile, more stoical than serene, and Turnbull stepped back a pace. "Have a safe journey, Fraser, Ray."

Ben simply nodded, knowing it was best to do this quickly. He started for the sled, with Dief bounding happily at his side. After a few metres he noticed Ray's absence and stopped. The two men were still standing together, not speaking. Ray flung his arms around Turnbull and kissed him soundly. Then he was running over the snow towards him grinning.

"So what we waiting for, Frase?"

*

It was hot in Florida. Well, that was the whole point, get away from Chicago, from the freezing winters… for as long as Ray could remember, he'd wanted to live here. It seemed like every time that he'd tried to get to the Sunshine State something had gone wrong. Mostly that something had involved Fraser. Well, he was here now, and he had a beautiful woman at his side. And he wasn't enjoying it.

He had too much time on his hands. Time to think about what being Armando had done to him, time to wonder how Fraser and Kowalski and Renny were getting along. Time to obsess over Laurier, and what he might be doing… most nights he woke from nightmares about that, and then found himself falling asleep over his dinner while Stella tried to maintain some kind of conversation with him.

Afternoons were the worst. Most days he swam in the pool in the basement of the apartment building or went to the local pool hall. If he didn't, then he'd more than likely fall asleep watching some crazy Spanish language soap opera or game show. He was starting to feel like his old Uncle Lorenzo. Soon, no doubt, he'd be hanging around in bars telling complete strangers about his glory days as a Chicago cop and reminiscing about Fraser.

The ringing of the phone roused Ray from contemplation of this unpleasant prospect. He made a note to himself to see a shrink before he started drinking like his old man as he reached for the phone. "Yeah. Vecchio."

"Ray?" Frannie's voice reverberated sharply in his ear and he winced. "Ray are you okay? Ma's worried sick about you. She says you've only called once in the last three weeks."

"I'm fine Frannie. Tell her not to worry." He tried to ignore a twinge of guilt. He hadn't seen much of his mother when he'd been in Chicago either. She'd been too upset when he'd got shot to visit the hospital and once he was out, he'd stayed in his old apartment rather than face the family. "I'll call her tonight, okay? Or tomorrow at the latest."

"Promise? Scout's honour?" She sounded sceptical, as well she might. "She's really upset, Ray."

"I promise, okay?" He clutched the phone a little tighter. "How is everybody?"

His sister chose to interpret his query in the broadest possible terms. Before he knew it, Ray was being updated on the minutiae of the lives of his family and everybody at the Twenty-Seventh. She even threw in Thatcher for good measure, though there was no love lost between those two, not with Fraser to fight over for the last four years.

"Well, that's great Frannie." He broke in when she showed signs of getting her second wind. "Good to hear all the news."

"Oh yeah… that reminds me. You'll never guess who turned up last week!" Frannie laughed coyly. "I'll give you a hint… he wears this red jacket and… well, okay, I'll grant you he's not the Mountie, but…"

"Renny?" The chill Ray felt had nothing to do with the air conditioning. "Turnbull's back in Chicago?"

"He decided not to go on that silly expedition. Do you think that maybe Fraser will see sense? I mean if Renfield did, then…"

"Frannie, this is important. You gotta get a message to Renny, okay?" He hesitated, wondering what he could safely tell her. "Tell him to… no wait, do you know where he's living?"

The urgency in his voice must have got through to her. "No. What's up, Ray? And what's it got to do with Renfield?"

"Hang on a minute." He paced up and down, his mind working furiously. He couldn't expect Frannie to break the news about Laurier. It was going to hit Renny hard enough. This was something he had to do. "Look, Frannie, see if you can find out where he is. Give him this number and tell him to call me urgently, okay? I've got a couple of numbers I can try, but I don't know if he's gonna be there. Do it today Frannie. Right now."

"What's going on? How serious is this, Ray?"

He tried to keep his voice calm. "Very serious. Do it Frannie, and call me back. Please."

The Consulate was already closed. No answer at his old apartment, not even an answer phone. The lease had been due to run out in a month or two and he'd been in a hurry to get out of Chicago, so he'd just walked out. Maybe Renny had gone back there, maybe not. Either way, the chances were that Ray would have to go back to Chicago, and soon.

*

Renny carefully considered his mental checklist. The upstairs windows had definitely been secured, and the back door. Inspector Thatcher's office had been cleared and all the papers she'd been working on were locked either in the small safe, or the filing cabinet. The desk in the hallway was fine, nothing of importance there. He frowned, wishing that Fraser was still in Chicago and living at the Consulate. It had certainly made things a lot easier. Two days ago he had left out some sensitive documents overnight and Inspector Thatcher's reprimands were still vivid in his memory.

He avoided looking down the hallway towards Fraser's old office and sighed. Inspector Thatcher had told him, rather grudgingly, that he could have the office if he wished. Implicit in her tone was the warning that he might occupy the physical space of the former occupant, but he would never be able to replace him. Not that he would want to try… still, he had refused politely. He stuck his head inside the meeting room, but it was almost bare, certainly there was nothing that needed to be locked away for the night.

In the hallway, Renny stopped to retrieve his coat and Stetson. It was still chilly, even for him, at this time of year. The keys were on his desk and he pocketed them briefly as he walked toward the door. It was a longish walk to the apartment and the light was fading rapidly. During the winter he'd occasionally taken a cab or the El, but he preferred to walk.

Outside, he locked the deadbolt and turned away from the Consulate door with some relief. Now that neither Ray nor Fraser was in Chicago, he had no real reason to stay here. Only the hope that Ray Vecchio might return kept him from requesting a transfer. But Ray was gone, leaving not so much as a goodbye message. Worse, he had gone with Stella Kowalski, with the avowed intention of marrying her. It was silly of him to continue to hope, but he did.

A sudden gust of wind sent his Stetson flying before he could lift a hand to prevent it. Renny ran the few steps necessary to retrieve it and was straightening when he sensed a presence behind him.

"Excuse me. Did you drop this?" The voice was somehow familiar, perhaps it was the Canadian accent.

Before he could turn to face the other man he was hit, a stunning blow to the side of his head that knocked him to the ground. For a moment, before everything faded, Renny could have sworn that he'd been attacked by a mirror image of himself. Except that his eyes had never been so angry, and he had never worn a goatee beard.

*

Consciousness seeped into his brain, slow and heavy, and Renny stirred reluctantly. At first he was only aware of the ache in his head and the fuzzy sensation in his mouth. Drugs? Or perhaps a blow… he couldn't remember. Eventually the discomfort of his body made itself known to him and he tried to move. He couldn't… at least, not very far. He lay thinking about it for a while, then tried again. This time he was able to confirm what his still dazed mind had not been able to accomplish before.

He was naked, lying face down on a soft surface, probably a bed. His arms were pulled over his head and restrained with a pair of metal handcuffs, and his legs had been spread wide and tethered at the ankles. He was lying in an awkward, twisted position and he couldn't move more than a few centimetres in any direction.

As the pounding in his head receded, Renny became aware he was not alone. Someone was nearby; he could hear the sound of breathing. It took more of an effort than it should to lift his head, ignoring his protesting neck muscles, and open his eyes.

Perhaps he was still unconscious. Or perhaps he'd simply gone mad. Renny stared up into his own face, a face full of anger and something infinitely more dangerous. He swallowed, and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the man with his face was still there. It had been real then, not an illusion caused by the blow to his head.

"Where's Armand?" The voice, low and angry, was his too, even to the Canadian accent. "Armando Langoustini."

Confusion was his initial response. This man had known Armando Langoustini? And therefore Ray? He held onto that confusion through a couple of painfully accelerated heartbeats. It might help him to keep from unintentionally betraying Ray. "Who?" His voice was rough, his throat dry. He was in no way prepared for the fist that drove into his left cheekbone, or the fingers that clenched in his hair and dragged his head up for another blow. This time it fell across the mouth, making it bleed.

"Don't lie to me! Tell me where he is!" The other man's face was twisted with rage. He lifted his hand again, open-palmed this time, and slapped him on his already throbbing cheek.

"I don't…" Renny cried out as another blow wrenched his head around and out of the other man's grasp. For a moment he lay with his face buried safely between his arms and shuddered.

A vicious tug on his hair dragged his head up again. There was pause as his doppelganger took in the tears on his cheeks. He sneered. "Snivelling little coward. I haven't even started yet." The thin lips closed like a trap. Then… "If you don't know Langoustini, where's Vecchio?"

This time he couldn't hide his reaction. The other's right hand lifted again and in spite of himself, Renny flinched. The contemptuous expression on his attacker's face was almost worse than the anticipated pain. He'd always been like this, unable to put on a brave front, unlike Ray, or Fraser, or his classmates at Depot. When they'd sprayed his eyes with pepper spray during training, he'd screamed. He had a low pain threshold, he'd been told. It didn't prevent him from doing what he must, but it still shamed him that he couldn't control himself better.

"Ray? He's… he's in Canada." The force of the blow rocked his head, wrenching his neck muscles. "No, please!" He tried desperately to work out what he could safely tell his interrogator. "He went with Fraser. To… to find the Hand of Franklin. It's…"

He was interrupted by another slap. "I know what it is, you moron. When did they go?"

It took a moment to calculate. He couldn't allow this man to suspect that Ray and Armando Langoustini were the same person. "Uh… it was about six weeks ago. Late February." Renny gasped with relief as his hair was released after one last vicious tug. Let it be over… before he made a mistake. But he knew it wasn't. He struggled to drag in enough air to ease his lungs and licked away the blood that was welling from his split lip.

When he risked a glance from between his arms, the other man was pacing up and down, smooth and dangerous as a caged panther. Their eyes met and Renny flinched away, unable to face the madness in a face almost indistinguishable from his own.

"Do you know who I am?" The madness seemed to increase. He took two quick steps towards the bed and dragged Renny's head up again, studying him intently. "Do you?"

"No." The expected blow came and he cried out again.

"You're not me. You're nothing like me, you pathetic bastard." The Canadian jerked his head back still further, until Renny's throat was taut. "Didn't Vecchio tell you about me? Did he tell you about Laurier?"

"No." The hand, identical to his, lifted. "No, he didn't, I swear!"

"What about Fraser? Didn't he tell you about how he arrested me?" Laurier's eyes narrowed dangerously. But the blank look on Renny's face must have convinced him. He let go and turned away. "You're useless."

There was a long silence. Renny didn't even try to look at his captor. If Laurier really had given up, then probably the last thing he would ever know was the cool touch of a gun muzzle against the base of his skull. Or Laurier might just continue beating him until he could no longer prevent himself from betraying his friends. Renny hoped desperately for the gun.

At last he was aware of Laurier's presence beside the bed. He waited, holding his breath, for whatever would come. His only warning was a faint swishing noise and then pain flashed through him as something… a belt? struck across the tender skin of his buttocks. Uncontrollably, he screamed, then bit down on the pillow to muffle the sounds as blow after blow followed the first.

When all the individual pains had melded into one and it seemed like there was no part of his body that could possibly be unmarked, the beating stopped. Renny's heart was racing from a combination of pain and fear, but even above the pounding in his ears, he could hear Laurier's ragged breathing. He waited, expecting more questions, wondering if he would have the strength or the courage to continue to resist. But when it came, Laurier's next move was worse than anything he could have imagined.

At first the shifting balance of the bed didn't register. Next came the touch of hot bare skin between his thighs. Even then, Renny's exhausted mind couldn't grasp the meaning of it, until a heavy body came down across his own, and a hard cock drove between his buttocks. He struggled then, uselessly, against his bonds while Laurier forced his way, by brute force, into his body.

There was nothing about what followed that was anything Renny could recognise as sex. Laurier hadn't used any preparations, not lube, not even, he realised with a shock, a condom. Each furious thrust rocked the whole bed and sent harsh stabs of pain through his body. He tried desperately to relax his muscles, hoping to make it easier for himself, but couldn't. Every nerve ending in his body was alive with pain and his mind simply rejected every effort he made.

The assault continued, unrelenting, unending. Laurier's hoarse gasps echoed obscenely in his ears, matching his thrusts. Renny's questing fingers touched the iron bars of the bed frame and gripped them as though they could somehow save him from this nightmare. Soon it would be over. Soon. And then the gun would set him free.

But when it was over, Laurier left the bed. Left him lying there. He heard the rustle of clothing being donned and then the quiet opening and closing of the door. Renny pressed his face into the pillow and sobbed.

*

Ray had thought he'd never see the familiar sight of Chicago's skyline piercing the haze of pollution again. It surprised him to realise how much he'd missed the Windy City. In any other circumstances he would have been overjoyed to be back again.

Frannie had called back after one of the longest days of his life to say that Renny was living in the apartment, but there was no reply when she rang. He hadn't turned up at the Consulate either. It all added up to something very nasty. By that time it was too late to do anything that night, so he'd arranged a flight, a very private flight, not listed with any air traffic controller, for the following morning. Stella hadn't been particularly upset to come home and find him packing, but then he hadn't expected that she would. They'd been sleeping in separate bedrooms since soon after their arrival in Florida.

During the drive into the city Ray began making calls. First to the Twenty-Seventh Precinct, to speak to Frannie. She'd called by the apartment again last night and this morning, and found no sign of Renny. Next the Consulate, where Meg Thatcher answered sounding more irritable than usual. He didn't help matters by telling her that Renny was sick and wouldn't be coming to work that day. Then he called a few select, unlisted numbers and started asking some hard questions.

Before he'd reached the Loop he had all the information he needed. He found a convenient park on East Wacker a couple of blocks from the apartment building that Laurier usually used when he was in Chicago and walked the rest of the way.

*

As soon as he opened the door, Ray knew he was too late. Which was pretty much what he'd expected, but his guts cramped all the same. Had he really expected Laurier to pass up an opportunity like this?

Renny lay in an awkward sprawl on the large bed. Too awkward to be natural. For a horrible moment, Ray thought he must be dead. But then he saw the leather cuffs tethering his ankles to either corner of the bed frame, holding his legs wide apart. The handcuffs had been looped through the frame on the left side and closed around each wrist, forcing Renny to lie in a twisted position designed to make it impossible for him to be comfortable.

Comfort was out of the question anyway. His bare back and buttocks were covered in bruises and reddened welts. Ray knew all too well what that meant. Though he'd never allowed Laurier to go so far, this was what passed for foreplay with the Canadian.

He didn't know how long he'd have. Ray hurried over to the bed and reached across it to touch Renny's shoulder. A weak shudder ran through the long, rangy body but Renny's head remained buried between his arms.

"Renny... it's okay, it's me." Even though the room was empty he spoke in little more than a whisper.

The sandy head lifted and Renny twisted around to look up at him. "Ray..." His voice broke on a sob but he was smiling.

Ray cupped his bruised cheek. "I'll get you out of here as fast as I can. Did he leave the keys here?"

"No." Renny's face grew worried. "Ray, he's never gone for very long and I don't know how long it's been."

"It's okay. Just hang on." He fished in his pocket for his own handcuff keys, still on his key chain even though he no longer owned any handcuffs. Usually one key would work on any of them.

He'd got one wrist free and was bent over Renny's ankles, wrestling with the stiff leather when Renny's choked cry alerted him. Too late. Ray looked up into the barrel of Laurier's favourite gun and then past it to the twin of his friend, his ex-lover John Laurier.

"Armand, how nice to see you again." The smile, feral and cruel, was worse than anything he'd seen before. This was Laurier without even his usual thin veneer of civilisation. The gun barrel swung away from him then back, hard.

*

He couldn't have been out long. When Ray woke he was tied to a chair and Laurier was circling Renny like a shark with fresh meat. There were new welts on Renny's back, some of them oozing blood.

"John!" Ray managed not to flinch when Laurier's gaze found him. If the man he'd known in Las Vegas had delighted in cruelty, this man was far beyond that. There was something different, something not entirely sane, in the doubly familiar face. He tried to make his voice seem quietly reasonable. "John, you don't want him. You know I can give you more than he ever could."

"You're offering to take his place?" That smile again. "How sweet. You'd really sacrifice yourself for him? Why?" Laurier's voice hardened on the last word.

Ray made himself return the smile. "Sacrifice? Is that what you think I was doing in Vegas?" It was his best 'Armando' voice… easy, sexy, a little arrogant.

Laurier hesitated, looking down at Renny's prone figure. His face, when it lifted again was confused, angry. "It wasn't because I looked like him?"

"That was a shock, I admit." He managed a casual shrug as best he could with his hands tied behind his back. "John, would I put myself at risk just to pretend I'm with someone else? You think I'm that crazy?"

"Are you?" Laurier was drifting towards him. His hand dipped into his jacket pocket and came out holding a gun. "Well, Armand?"

"Where you're concerned, maybe." Ray met his eyes and tried to keep the sick feeling off his face. "Look at him, John. He's a pale shadow of the man you are."

The blue eyes flickered, but the gun never wavered. "And you want me. Me. Not him."

"Not him. I want you."

Laurier's hand lashed out, catching Ray across the lips. "You like it rough, don't you, Armand?"

"Yeah. You know I do. You know what I want." He licked the blood away slowly.

Ray leaned forward trying to look eager, and Laurier grabbed the front of his jacket and hauled him bodily to his feet. He was pulled over to the wall and pushed up against it, while Laurier pressed up close behind him. Ray slid his fingers over the length of his erection.

"Untie me John." His voice was low and husky.

Laurier's hand, still holding the gun, slammed into the wall beside his head. "Do. You. Think. I'm. A. Fool?" He bounced Ray's head off the wall between each word.

Shit. Ray struggled not to give way to the resulting dizziness. He thought his nose was bleeding now. "No marks. That was the deal, John."

"That was the deal with Armand. But you're not Armand." Laurier's voice was now frighteningly calm. "There's a new deal now, dead man. You do whatever I say, and I won't hurt your pathetic boyfriend. Are you going to take it?"

"Sure. I'll take it." What else could he do? Watch while Laurier beat and raped Renny? There was no choice.

Laurier made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. His gun hand stayed where it was, only inches from Ray's nose, though it might as well have been miles for all the chance Ray had of getting hold of it. Laurier's left hand slid between the wall and Ray's body, finding his pants and tugging at the belt impatiently. It came free at last and he tore at the pants, managing to pull the button loose and drag the zipper down. He stepped back for a moment and shoved Ray's pants and shorts down off his hips.

Ray leaned into the wall, his legs parted, knees slightly bent. Even so the force of Laurier's penetration nearly threw him off balance. The pain was nothing; he was used to that, but something inside him rebelled at this use of his body. It didn't matter that he was doing it to protect Renny. It didn't matter that Laurier had fucked him dozens of times in the last few months. His mind, his body, told him it was wrong, a soul deep wrongness that made his guts heave and his mind scream silently for it to be over. He stared at the gun, back in place against the wall and clamped his lips shut.

And then it was over. Too soon… and every instinct he had cried warning. Laurier's hand dragged Ray roughly around to face him. He leaned back against the wall, needing its support. Then the hand pressed downwards and his already shaky knees gave way.

He was on his knees, face to face with Laurier's cock, jutting purple-tipped and angry from his pants. A drop of precum gathered in the slit and dribbled its way across the cockhead, and Ray saw tiny flecks of shit on the burning skin. Laurier hadn't used a condom.

There was no time to think about what might be a death sentence. He was already as good as dead, anyway. Ray opened his mouth obedient to Laurier's unspoken command, and the thick cock slammed into his mouth, half choking him. He could taste the precum, and the shit, as Laurier pounded into him, bouncing his head off the wall until Ray saw stars. Eventually, he managed to cooperate, knowing that it was the only way to end this quickly. He accepted the hot, sickening gush gratefully and slumped back against the wall, his head bowed, gasping for breath.

When he looked up again, Laurier was back beside the bed, belt in hand, staring down at Renny.

*

It was only a matter of time… but the first thwack of leather on bare flesh made Ray flinch reflexively. He fought the urge to look up, to see the belt descend on Renny's pale skin. That wasn't going to get either of them out of here alive. With a patience he once would never have believed he was capable of, Ray turned his attention back to his bonds. They were very slightly looser than they had been. Not loose enough though. Not nearly loose enough.

The sounds continued, but Renny was silent, as he had been ever since Ray had woken tied to the chair. He worked at the ropes, relieved that Laurier hadn't had two pairs of handcuffs. When he felt the trickle of blood on his raw wrists, he was only thankful that the extra moisture would help.

He'd thought that the sound of Renny's beating was sickening, but when it stopped, he knew it was only the beginning. He couldn't stop himself looking towards the bed. Laurier was kneeling on it, hands fumbling with his pants. Beyond him, Renny's fists were clenched, white-knuckled, on the iron railing of the bed; the long muscles of his arms were taut, but his head was still hidden between them.

"Laurier!" Ray's voice was desperate. He couldn't let this happen. He had no way of stopping it, except by persuasion. "John, you can't do this."

Laurier laughed and turned his head to look over his shoulder. "And how are you going to stop me? Call in the Iguana family?"

There was only one chance, and he didn't even know if it was the truth. God knew he didn't want to say this in front of Renny. "For God's sake, Laurier, look at him. He's your mirror image; and he's adopted, just like you. He's your brother."

Renny's body heaved. His head lifted at last and turned toward Ray. "Ray? Ray, is it…"

"Shut up!" Laurier slammed his gun hand into Renny's head. "Shut the fuck up. If I see your face, I'm gonna blow your fucking head off. I'm not warning you again."

There was a brief silence as Renny subsided and Laurier visibly struggled for control. Ray's heart was pounding painfully against his ribs. He swallowed. "Laurier…"

The gun was suddenly pointing in his direction. "I don't fucking care." Laurier dragged in a shaken breath and grinned. "Keep it in the family, eh, Armand?"

"Don't do it, John." He didn't care that his voice was pleading. "You don't wanna do this."

The gun lowered uncertainly. "Don't I?" Laurier looked down at Renny. He put the gun down on the bed and Ray heard the rasp of his zipper.

He had to look away then, and do his best to tune out the sounds from the bed as he struggled with his bonds. There wasn't going to be much time. Laurier was losing control, losing his sanity in front of Ray's eyes. He was almost certain that as soon as Laurier was finished with Renny he would kill them both.

Ideally, he should get his hands free, but it was clear enough that he wouldn't have time for that. But now that Laurier's attention was focused so completely on Renny, he could take a risk he wouldn't normally have considered. The rope wasn't loose enough to let him free, but it might just be enough… Ray wriggled, did his best to fold himself in half, and managed to slide his backside and legs through the circle of his arms, bringing them to the front.

At least now he had a few more options. There wasn't much in the room he could use as a weapon. Ray's eyes fixed on the gun, lying forgotten on the bed beside Laurier and Renny's bodies. Two steps were all it would take, but if Laurier were to have the slightest warning…

His fingers, half numb, closed around the gun butt and fumbled for the trigger. Laurier was still thrusting viciously into Renny's unmoving body, but at the last moment his head came up and he began to turn. Without the slightest hesitation Ray pulled the trigger. Blood exploded from the side of Laurier's head and he dropped like a stone.

Renny screamed hoarsely, dragged in a ragged breath and screamed again. Laurier was lying on top of him, his shattered head over Renny's. The screams died away to harsh sobbing breaths as Ray threw himself onto the bed, pulling at Laurier's body. Renny cried out in pain this time, and Ray realised, sickeningly, that Laurier's cock was still inside him. He shifted his grip to Laurier's hips and eased him free.

Now Laurier's body was between him and Renny. Ray hurried to the other side of the bed and lifted Renny's blood soaked head. "It's over, okay? We gotta get out of here. Can you help me?"

It was the right thing to say. The Mountie in Renny came visibly to the fore and he nodded, then shuddered as blood trickled down his cheek. Ray grabbed the edge of a sheet and wiped the worst of it off.

They were both a mess. Ray realised he was kneeling, naked from the hips down, his hands still tied together, in front of a handcuffed and tethered man who'd been badly abused. And they had to get out of there before anybody came to investigate the sound of the shot. There was no way they could afford to be found here with Laurier's body.

Ray reached across Renny's body and searched Laurier's pockets for the key to the handcuffs, ignoring the still hard cock poking out of the fly. He found it and freed Renny's abraded wrists.

He held his hands out. "Can you untie me?"

"I think so." Renny's voice was shaky but superficially calm. He avoided looking into Ray's face. But his fingers were almost as bad as Ray's and he couldn't manage the knots. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I'm gonna look for a knife." He touched Renny's cheek lightly. "Just take it easy. You're gonna have to walk a ways."

He found a knife after a brief search. It wasn't very sharp, but Ray managed to cut through the rope enough that his hands were free, even if there was still rope around his wrists. That could come off later. He used the knife to rip through the stitching on the leather ankle cuffs too, and Renny was free.

"Can you sit up?" He eased Renny into position, half sitting half leaning against the bed head and left him there while he searched for the Canadian's clothes.

Everything was taking longer than it should. By the time he'd got Renny dressed he was in a state of barely controlled panic. With one of Renny's arms over his shoulder, he steered the still shocked man to the door. Then it would be two flights of stairs; no risking taking the elevator with them both in this state, and then the two blocks to the car he'd hired. Or, dammit, just abandon that and call a cab. Except that any cab driver worth his salt would remember two battered and shaking men, one in Mountie uniform, leaving the scene of a homicide, once it hit the news. So it was walk then…

*

Ray didn't even remember reaching the car. There were a few terrifying memories of weaving dangerously fast through heavy traffic, but mostly he remembered pulling up in the garage of his apartment building and dragging Renny out of the car and into the elevator. God help them if anybody saw them, but there was no way they could manage eight flights of stairs.

He didn't think anybody did see them, but by then he was almost as unsteady on his feet as Renny and beyond noticing. Reaction was setting in. He'd killed before, but never a lover. Never the mirror image of his lover. Never a man who'd raped him. Somehow he got Renny into the apartment and onto the bed.

The big Canadian was sickly white with shock, where he wasn't bruised, and the weals on his back needed attending to. God only knew what internal injuries there might be. He needed to go to hospital, but the staff would insist on reporting them, and as soon as Laurier's death was discovered they'd be toast. So he'd just have to do the best he could.

He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his friend and lover. It was the first real look he'd had since coming back to Chicago and having his cover blown by Benny. God, how he'd missed him. Missed the innate goodness; missed it even more than he had Benny's, since he'd had Laurier's face to remind him what it was about Renny that he most loved. He wondered if that sweetness would survive what had been done to him, and thought that probably it would. He hoped so.

The blue eyes opened and stared up at him. Ray bent over and kissed the thin lips gently. "Renny, I gotta get you cleaned up, okay?"

"Yes, Ray." There was a world of hurt, and need, in those eyes. But as he slid an arm under Renny's broad shoulders, the Canadian pushed himself up slowly, leaning against him in perfect trust.

"You wanna have a bath?" Ray pulled off the boots and socks before getting him on his feet.

Renny stood swaying gently as Ray undressed him, making no move to assist. Even so, he nearly fell as Ray peeled the undershirt over his head. If he'd tried bending over to remove his jodhpurs he would have ended up flat on his face.

He led Renny into the bathroom and got the bath started running. It was a large one, big enough for two, three if they got really friendly, and one of the little indulgences he'd insisted on. He had no intention of getting in it with Renny though, not after what he'd been through.

But when the water was deep enough to make it worth while, and Renny was settled in there, he reached out a large bony hand to Ray. Ray took it without hesitation.

"Ray would you… I don't want to be alone." Renny looked up at him, his face quiet, but his eyes reflected the depth of his need. He never liked to ask for anything, never wanted to demand more than his lovers were willing to give. And he never understood that simply by being who he was, and by loving them the way he did, he made huge demands on them. Demands they would do anything to fulfil.

A smile spread across Ray's face. It was so simple and honest a reaction that it shocked him. He'd thought he could never feel like that again. "I'd love to join you. I just wasn't sure if you… hang on."

He stripped as quickly as he could, given that his hands were still shaking and he was so stiff he could hardly move. He eased into the steaming water with a groan, feeling it sting in places he didn't want to think about. The water level was high enough now, and he turned off the faucets and relaxed back into the water. At his side Renny hesitated a moment then drifted against him. He raised an arm invitingly and a moment later had a damp head resting on his shoulder, a long, hard body pressed close to his side. He kissed the broad forehead lightly and they soaked in silence for a while.

After a while, being Renny, and almost like a child in some ways, he grew restless. Ray felt the long fingers playing with his chest hair and smiled. There was nothing sexual about it. When Renny wanted sex he went at it with a single-mindedness that would have seduced a saint from his celibacy. No, this was just playing prompted, no doubt, by a need for safe, physical intimacy, for reassurance. And Ray knew exactly what reassurance Renny needed.

He let out a long sigh. "It wasn't you, when I came back last time. You know that, don't you?"

"I think so, Ray." Renny's head twisted up to look at him.

"It wasn't." Ray cupped his hand over the bruised cheek and brushed his thumb over Renny's swollen bottom lip. "I was… I guess I was lost. I was still more Armando Langoustini than Ray Vecchio. I still am, I suppose. And seeing you…"

"You're not Armando, Ray." Renny's eyes were clear and sure on his. "Armando would never have tried to rescue me. Nobody else I know would have let… let someone rape him to protect me."

"Some protection." Ray laughed bitterly. What his old man would have said about that was something he'd rather not think about. But that wasn't going to help Renny, and he let the old feelings of inadequacy slip away. "I know I hurt you, but I didn't want to. I just couldn't tell you why I reacted that way, without telling you about… about him…"

The big body tensed against his and Renny's head was lowered, but his fingers still teased absently at Ray's chest hairs. Ray waited. However the question, when it came, wasn't the one he'd expected.

"He was your lover, wasn't he?" The long fingers stilled at last and flattened against his suddenly pounding heart. "Was it…" his breath caught on a sob, "was it because of me?"

"Yeah, he was my lover. But it wasn't because of you. He and Armando had already got involved." That was close enough to the truth to work. "And I already knew him. I'd arrested him once." His voice got very thin all of a sudden and he had to consciously relax his throat muscles to be able to continue. "He was… he knew me. Knew Ray Vecchio. I needed that."

"Oh…" Renny's head came up again and he leaned away a little to look at Ray. "I think I understand, Ray." He smiled sadly and leaned in to kiss him.

It was a nice kiss. The kind of kiss that wasn't going to lead to anything, that couldn't lead to anything… not tonight, not anytime soon, Ray suspected. When it finished he lay still, waiting. Renny's eyes asked the question and his answered; they didn't need words. They kissed again, and again, until the water was cooling and they had to wash each other down and rinse off in the shower.

Ray wrapped Renny in a thick robe, which was easier than trying to pat him down with a towel, then bundled him into the wide bed in the master bedroom. He dried himself off hurriedly and dressed in an old pair of RCMP sweat pants and top, raided from Renny's drawer.

He stroked his hand over the short springy hair. "You need to see a doctor. Got any ideas?"

Renny blinked up at him drowsily. "There's a man. He's a friend of Fraser's. 555 3050."

"You trust him?" Ray waited for a nod of confirmation and then went out into the hallway to make the call. He didn't want Renny hearing what he had to say.

*

Two hours later, he was sitting on the bed, with Renny's head on his lap while a complete stranger performed an internal exam on his lover. There wasn't a sound, but he felt the big body tense and began to stroke his hair gently. A large hand clutched at his other hand and he tightened his fingers around it. It seemed to be taking far too long, but when Ray thought to look at the clock it had only been a few minutes.

Dr Springfield straightened with a grimace and peeled off his latex gloves. "There's nothing too serious there… a bit of rectal tearing and some bruising. I've administered an antibiotic suppository, and I'll leave you some tablets, for that and the wounds. There's also some antiseptic cream."

"Thanks. I appreciate you coming here. It isn't something his boss needs to find out about." Ray looked up at the older man and hoped like Hell that he accepted the explanation. It was true enough, he supposed, even if Meg Thatcher was too busy, with the Consulate denuded of staff, and, to make things worse, in the middle of yet another change of premises, to care too much.

He was subjected to a searching stare. "You look like you could have run into the same people. I'll examine you in the bathroom if you prefer."

"Sure." Ray repressed a sigh and bent over Renny. "You okay? I won't be long."

Renny nodded wordlessly. He pulled the covers over the curled up body and kissed his cheek. And went into the bathroom.

"Mr Vecchio, before I go I'll take some blood samples for testing." Springfield looked at him with a wary sympathy. "They'll establish a baseline for later tests. You should both have another test after six weeks and again at three and six months."

"Sure." He knew what Springfield was talking about. HIV… but after what they'd escaped, he wasn't really able to care very much. Later that would change, but for now he welcomed the numbness. "I know the drill. That all?" Maybe the examination had just been an excuse to discuss this away from Renny.

But the doctor was busy pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. This time Ray did sigh. "Let's make this quick, okay? I'm not hurt bad." He dropped the sweat pants and leaned over the washbasin, resignation uppermost in his mind.

The exam didn't take long and, as Ray had expected, there was no real damage. At least none that was physical. Once the blood samples had been taken Ray paid off the doctor in cash and closed the apartment door behind him with a strong sense of relief.

Renny was half-asleep, his lashes drooping over reddened eyes. Ray guessed he must be exhausted, not just from his injuries, but from the appalling stress of the last day and a half. He perched gingerly on the edge of the bed and Renny's lashes barely flickered. Springfield had given Renny a sedative, and at last it seemed to be taking effect.

Ray sat watching him, feeling more helpless than he ever had since that time he'd shot Benny. This was just as bad. After a moment he began to stroke Renny's damp hair with the lightest of touches and the thin lips curved into a faint smile. A smile that was almost identical to the one Renny had worn that first day that Ray had really seen him as a person and not just another red-coated Mountie.

He couldn't remember, now, why it had taken him so long. Maybe it was just the way that Benny had always treated Renny like he wasn't even there; unless he'd been forced, because of some klutzy mistake Renny had made, to acknowledge the younger Mountie. Then one day it had struck Ray that the expression on Renny's face must be very like the one he'd worn for so long. A kind of hopeless longing for something he could never have. Only Ray had eventually found that he could have what he wanted more than anything in this world, and Renny knew he could not.

Ray remembered that glance of understanding they'd shared, and the small, sad smile that Renny had given him. Something had passed between them that day that had sparked an interest in each other. It had taken a while, but slowly they'd grown closer together until it was inevitable that they should become lovers, even in the face of Benny's intense disapproval. Maybe even, and Ray grinned at the thought, because of Benny's disapproval.

Benny never had been able to see past the awkward exterior that Renny presented to the world. An exterior that masked a wayward intelligence and one of the kindest hearts that Ray had ever encountered. They would never love each other with the kind of soul-deep intensity that he shared with Benny, but his relationship with Renny was deeply satisfying in so many ways that Ray could no longer imagine his life without either of his lovers.

Renny stirred drowsily. "What are you smiling for, Ray?"

"I was thinking about…" Ray cupped his hand against Renny's flushed cheek. "About us. About how loving you is one of the best things I've ever done."

The blue eyes lit up and the smile brightened a little. "Everything will be all right, won't it Ray?"

"Sure." Ray bent down to kiss his lover. "Of course it will."

*

An igloo. They were sleeping in a fucking igloo. Even the Inuit they'd met didn't do that any more. They lived in houses like normal people. Only Fraser thought living in an igloo was a good idea. Ray listened to the wind howling outside and shivered, in spite of the fact that it was warm and musty inside, and he had a large warm body lying very close to his under a pile of sleeping bags, blankets and a couple of furs. Even Dief had abandoned the pile to lie a little closer to the entry. His eyes glowed in the faint red wash from the remaining embers of the fire.

A heavy arm slid across his back pulling him closer, and a drowsy sigh sent a gust of hot air over his skin. Without speaking Ray turned into the encircling arm and snuggled closer. Maybe living in an igloo had compensations. They kissed slowly, tasting each other, exploring territory long familiar but still enticing.

Between their bodies his cock stirred lazily, matching the stirring he felt against his thigh. Ray rubbed his fingertips in slow circles around Fraser's nipples, knowing that it drove his lover crazy. Sure enough, the kisses deepened and Fraser began humping his thigh. He moaned softly into Fraser's mouth.

They'd been alone together now, just the two of them… three if you counted Dief, and you had to count Dief, he supposed… for over five weeks. Twenty-four hours a day. And neither of them had gone crazy and killed the other, or got into a screaming match and walked off. Not that there was anywhere you could walk off to… well, maybe Fraser could. But he hadn't. Some time towards the end of the second week… the passing of the days was getting difficult to calculate when it was dark nearly all the time, Ray had stopped expecting anything bad to happen unless it was related to the weather.

Fraser loved him. Impossible as that seemed to him sometimes, it was true. Sure it was obvious that he still loved Ray Vecchio, but Ray Vecchio was in Florida and with any luck he'd stay there. And he, Ray Kowalski, was here in the wilds of Canada, sleeping, or more accurately, making out with Fraser. In an igloo. Vecchio could have Florida…

He scooted down a bit and began to suck on Fraser's nipples. The humping increased in tempo a little. He humped back. His fingers slid down impossibly smooth skin to toy with the dense patch of hair surrounding Fraser's cock. The only place he had any significant hair except for his head. Ray massaged the firm pubic mound beneath the soft wiry curls and grinned when Fraser's hips bucked against him. Who knew what would turn this guy on?

Well, there was one thing that was always a winner. His fingers drifted up the length of that hard Mountie cock and began to slide the foreskin back. It moved easily across the wet cockhead, and he slid it forward again, sending shivers through both of them. Fraser's movements stilled and they began to kiss again, still in silence. Fraser was always quiet when they made love, unlike him. He liked to yell.

Tiny tremors spread through both of them and Fraser began to thrust slowly against his fingers. Ohhhh… God…. Ray pressed closer and wrapped his hand around both their cocks. Fraser moaned quietly as they moved in unison.

Fraser caressed Ray's cheek wetly with his tongue, then plunged it into his ear. "Ray…"

"Ohhh, yeaaaahh…" he arched his back, increasing the pressure on their cocks.

A large hand clasped his butt firmly and he reciprocated, placing both hands on Fraser's deliciously firm, rounded cheeks. Their hips ground together with increasing fervour and Ray rolled onto his back, pulling Fraser over on top of him. Fraser rode him in hard, measured strokes, never once losing control. Ray rocked his hips in time with him. The pleasure built and built to a crescendo.

"Ohhh, fuck…" Ray threw his head back, feeling the first inexorable contractions. "Oh fuck Frase… fuuuucckkk…" his hips bucked wildly and his fingers dug into the hard muscle, "fuck, fuck… fuuuckk!" he shot his load and collapsed, panting, beneath the dead weight of his lover.

In the sudden silence Dief whined disgustedly and shifted his position.

"You're just jealous because yer not gettin' any." Ray threw an amused, irritated glance towards the wolf, whose head was pointedly averted. "You could always go sleep outside with the sled dogs. Ya might even get lucky."

"Ray, please. There's no need to antagonise him. It's going to be a long trip." Fraser still sounded a bit breathless.

"He started it."

Fraser sighed. "He just thinks you're… well, unnecessarily noisy. Pay him no mind."

"I'll bet he never said that about Vecchio." Hell, where had that come from? There was a hurt silence. "I'm sorry… forget I ever said it, okay?"

"All right, Ray." Neutral tone. No clue as to what Fraser was thinking, let alone feeling.

"Frase…" Ray planted a quick kiss on his lips as Fraser moved away. He didn't go far, just settled down at his side as they'd been before. "Look, I know you still love him. That's okay. I'm okay with it." Most of the time…

"I love you Ray. Don't you trust me yet?" Fraser's voice was quiet. Definitely hurt, though whether it was over Vecchio, or him, Ray didn't know.

"Yeah, I do, Frase. It's just sometimes…" he thought about it for a moment, "…sometimes I just wonder whether you love him better than me. Whether, if he wanted you back, you'd leave me."

"Ray, Ray, Ray…" Fraser's voce was amused now. "Why do you do this to yourself? I can't tell you if I love you more, or Ray. It's like asking whether apples or bananas are better."

"I don't like bananas."

Fraser ignored him. "And if Ray wanted me back… why should I chose one or the other of you? I would have thought it was obvious from our… our other arrangements that choosing between you was unnecessary."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say to that. And he admitted to himself, finally, that there was something between Fraser and Vecchio that he would never have. Never could have, even though he'd follow Fraser to the ends of the earth. Hell, he had followed Fraser to the ends of the earth. He had, not Vecchio. Apples and bananas. He grinned, reassured at last. "So… if it ever happens, can I be the apple?"

*

It seemed strange to be back at the stationhouse again. Last time he'd left Ray had thought he'd never be coming back, but he needed a job, and there was only one job he really knew how to do. And, if he was working as a cop again, he might get some news on what was happening over Laurier. Sooner or later his connection with Laurier would come out. Maybe this way he'd get a bit of warning, a chance to cover his tracks. At least he could protect Renny better, he hoped. Ray took a deep breath and knocked on the door of his boss' office.

Lt Welsh looked up from his current stack of files with a resigned expression on his face that didn't quite conceal his pleasure. "So you're back. You weren't in Florida very long."

"It was too hot." Ray shrugged casually. "Stella and me, it didn't work out too good. So I thought I'd come back."

"No doubt you'll be looking for a job." He waved towards a chair and watched as Ray sank into it rather stiffly. "It just so happens there's an opening."

Ray grinned. "I thought there might be."

"We've had quite the outbreak of crime in the last few days." Welsh tossed a folder over to his new recruit. "Strictly speaking it's not our jurisdiction, but we've been asked to help out."

Ray flipped open the folder, watching Welsh warily, but the weathered face gave nothing away. He glanced down at an eight by ten glossy of John Laurier's shattered head, and slumped back in the chair fighting nausea.

"It's seems that the gentleman in question, though bearing a remarkable resemblance to a certain Mountie of our acquaintance, had strong connections to the Canadian criminal fraternity. Perhaps you remember him? You arrested him once." Welsh stared at him with a mildly encouraging expression on his face.

"Yeah, I remember." Ray ran a hand over his face. "So, what happened?"

"Read the report." But when Ray made no move to look at it again, the lieutenant continued. "He was found dead in an apartment belonging to a certain… shall we say, businessman of dubious reputation? The only other prints found in the apartment, apart from the cleaning staff, were on record as matching those of Armando Langoustini. Apparently this gentleman knew Langoustini."

"That's right." He forced himself to meet Welsh's eyes. He wondered if Welsh knew that his fingerprints had been placed in Langoustini's file. "What are you gonna do?"

"I haven't decided yet. Let's just say I'm gathering evidence." Welsh rubbed his chin. "I called the Consulate this morning. It seems Constable Turnbull has been off work sick for several days. A viral infection, I'm told."

"That's what they told me. He's been flat on his back for days."

"So he would have no connection to this incident?" Welsh lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

Ray shrugged again. "Guess not."

"It's quite the coincidence that both Ray Vecchio and Armando Langoustini should know this man. A man who looks so much like a close friend of yours. And that Ray Vecchio should suddenly turn up in Chicago two days after his death. Especially since Armando Langoustini is now the prime suspect in the murder."

"Coincidences happen, Lou. Like Laurier looking like Turnbull. Just coincidence. They've got nothing to do with each other." Ray kept his voice level, disinterested. He'd never thought he'd be grateful for Langoustini's legendary control, but he was now.

Welsh leaned across the desk, holding his hand out for the file and Ray passed it to him. "Ray, I can't help you or Turnbull if you won't trust me."

"I told you. It's got nothing to do with him." Ray thought fast. If he could just keep Renny out of it… "Look… Laurier and Langoustini, they were kinda friendly, okay? So it figures that after Langoustini disappears in Chicago that Laurier would come here and start hunting around. So maybe he poked his nose into something he shouldn't have."

"And?" Welsh looked at him sceptically.

"How should I know? I wasn't here." He'd made damn sure he'd laid a false trail for his return to Chicago. Everything pointed to him arriving the day after Laurier had died, so he put every ounce of sincerity he possessed into his voice. "Hell, for all I know the Feds might have got rid of him because he found out too much about their operation."

"Don't play me for a fool, Ray." Welsh ignored Ray's mild protestation of innocence. "If you tell me what happened, I'll do everything I can to help you."

He obviously wasn't going to let go, and the more Welsh probed the more likely it was that Renny would be dragged into this. There was only one thing Ray could do now…

"I killed him." Ray held his arms out, wrists together. "You gonna arrest me?"

His heart was pounding frantically. If he went down for this, Renny would be on his own. He'd sent off a message to Fraser and Kowalski yesterday, but even if Frobisher was right about the route they were taking, it could be days, or even weeks before they got it. Still, if this was the only way he could keep Renny out of it, then he'd take it. And then pull in every favour the Feds owed him to get out alive.

Welsh sighed wearily. "It might come to that, but not if I can avoid it. Talk to me Ray."

All the fight drained out of him suddenly. Ray dropped his head into his hands. "I knew he was going to come after me. That's why I got out of here." He looked up again at Welsh's impassive face. "I didn't want to kill him. I came back because… just because. I found out where he was staying and I went to see him. He went crazy. Hit me over the head with his gun, tied me up. He was gonna kill me. I managed to get free, but he came back. So I shot him."

"Before or after you had sex with him?" Welsh cocked his head. "It was you, wasn't it?"

It ought to bother him that Welsh knew that, but it didn't. Ray shrugged listlessly. "I thought it would keep him happy. I was wrong."

"And Constable Turnbull was not in any way involved… I ask because it seems just a tad unlikely that a man who was both taller and heavier than you would obligingly lie face down on a bed to allow you to shoot him from behind." Welsh's voice was deceptively mild.

"I already told you." The words came out too fast, too angry. He leaned back into the chair and forced himself to relax. "There was nobody else."

Welsh's eyes dropped. "I see. So you're claiming it was self defence?"

"I guess." As long as Welsh was willing to keep Renny out of it, Ray decided, he'd confess to anything.

The lieutenant considered that for a moment. "The gun?"

Ray shrugged. "It was Laurier's. Anyway, I threw it off the end of Navy Pier."

"No doubt if the Feds were to hear about this, they'd be all over this stationhouse, wanting to suppress the evidence." Welsh flipped a couple of pages over then closed the folder. "I hate that. Disrupts the whole Precinct."

It took a moment for what Welsh had said to sink in. Ray looked up. "You're not gonna arrest me?"

"That's up to you. Since you have first hand experience with the Mob, I'm giving you the case." Welsh tossed the file onto the desk. "Welcome back, Ray."

Ray could only stare at him open-mouthed.

*

Ray hadn't wanted him to come to work, but Renny had insisted; after all he hadn't really had any option after taking most of last week off. In two more days they'd be moving into the new Consulate on the twenty-fourth floor of a high-rise office building in the Downtown area and it was impossible for him to take any more time off work. Besides, Ray was starting work at the Twenty-Seventh Precinct today and he didn't want to stay in the apartment alone. Ray had driven him to the Consulate and had promised to pick him up if he could, and if not, he would take a cab home.

He'd thought he could manage all right, but within half an hour he was standing at attention before Inspector Thatcher being thoroughly reprimanded.

She stopped in mid-tirade. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Sir." Renny tried to draw himself up even straighter. As she continued to stare at him, he realised that there was in fact something wrong. He hastily wiped the moisture from his cheeks. "Sorry, Sir."

A small crease appeared between her brows. "Would you like to go home, Constable? Perhaps you need more time to recover from that virus."

"No Sir!" He pulled himself up short with an effort. "That is, I… I'd rather stay, Sir."

"I see." Thatcher inspected him from head to toe and Renny fought to remain suitably impassive. Just like he'd seen Fraser do under similar circumstances. "Well, you could stand guard for an hour. There's some filing that needs to be done." She looked at him doubtfully. "And…"

"The upstairs rooms are really quite disgraceful, Sir. I don't think those cleaners…"

"Yes, very well Constable. See to it." Thatcher interrupted him, impatience suddenly getting the better of her concern. "Dismissed. And, er… tidy yourself up."

"Thank you, Sir." He hurried off to the bathroom to wash his face, trying to hide his relief. The filing would keep him occupied, and while he stood guard, he would be able to use the techniques he'd been taught to keep his mind away from unsuitable reflections. He could do those things; it was just that dealing with people was too difficult for him right now. He would do his duty. In spite of Constable Fraser and Inspector Thatcher's low opinions of him, he was a Mountie after all. He'd been through the same training they'd had, and had graduated just as they had. He would be able to get through the day; and one day at a time was all he could hope to deal with at the moment. He just hoped that Ray would be able to finish work on time. The thought of being alone in the apartment was terrifying.

*

The face in the mirror stared back at him impassively. The same face that he'd lived with all his life, except that he no longer thought of it as his own. He reached out to trace the line of the moustache and goatee beard on the cool glass. They were invisible, now, but etched on his memory. Perhaps he should grow it back… but Ray insisted on shaving him now. Ray had hidden his razor and used an electric razor, which didn't shave as close.

Ray worried about him, but really, he didn't need to. He was able to look after himself, he was able to carry out his duties perfectly well at work, most of the time, and even cook dinner for Ray in the evenings. Ray didn't like it when he looked in the mirror this way. He'd tried to stop, if only to please Ray, but he just couldn't. The man in the mirror kept calling to him.

The eyes in the mirror bored into him and the thin lips parted. There was no sound, but he didn't need to hear the words, or to lip read, as Fraser did. He knew what the man in the mirror was saying. The face became distorted, angry; the eyes blazed with hostility. Without warning the top of his head exploded in a red splatter of blood and brain tissue. For a moment the angry mouth continued to move, then what remained of the face shattered into a dozen fragments and disappeared.

*

It was quiet in the apartment when Ray opened the door, too quiet. Every time he wasn't able to pick Renny up from the Consulate it was the same; his stomach would tie itself up in knots at the thought of what Renny might do. Probably he'd just find him standing in front of the one remaining mirror, in the bathroom. Ray had removed all the others days ago, frightened by the intensity of Renny's obsession with his own reflection.

He went straight to the bathroom, but it was empty, and the mirror was in pieces on the floor. His heart began a rapid thumping and his mouth went dry. "Renny? Where are ya?"

There was no answer and he set out on a frantic search of the apartment. Renny wasn't anywhere. Finally he went back to the bathroom hoping to find some kind of clue. This time he actually went into the room, and there was his lover in the corner, sitting on the floor, head bowed over his bloody hands.

"Renny." Ray went over and crouched in front of him. He touched the flat plane of Renny's cheek, raising his head. The blankness in those blue eyes was more disturbing even than the blood. "Come on, love, let's get this cleaned up."

He made no attempt to resist as Ray got him on his feet and led him into the kitchen. Even a cursory examination was enough to convince Ray that the wounds would need to be stitched. He wrapped a clean kitchen towel around the injured hand and went to call Dr Springfield.

*

The bedroom was silent, even though Ray knew Renny was awake. The situation was getting out of control and he was beginning to wonder if Fraser and Kowalski had got his message, or whether they'd missed it and he was on his own. The thought was becoming increasingly frightening. He wasn't able to be with Renny every moment of the day, and what he'd found when he came home tonight indicated that he could no longer be sure that Renny would not try to injure himself.

He looked across at Renny's head, lying on the pillow on the far side of the bed. Usually they slept in different rooms now, but tonight he'd needed to stay close and Renny hadn't objected. They'd never talked about Laurier's death, and Ray had hoped that when Renny was ready, he'd bring it up himself. Now it was obvious that he was going to have to do it, and since that was the case, he might as well start now. He for sure wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

"Hey, Renny, you awake?" Ray touched the broad shoulder gently.

A quiet sigh and Renny rolled onto his side to face him. "Yes, Ray."

"Come here." Ray gathered him into a loose embrace and Renny's head settled on his shoulder, his favourite position. That, at least, was encouraging. Ray ran his fingers over the short hair. "You wanna talk about it?"

Silence.

"Look, I know…" Ray hesitated. "I mean, it's weird… scary… to know somebody else has your face. Someone who's so unlike you that…" he stopped as the man in his arms tried to pull free. The last thing he wanted to do was forcibly restrain him, but he didn't dare let Renny escape either.

"You don't know, Ray. Armando wasn't your brother." Renny sounded close to tears already.

Ray turned to lie facing him. His fingers stroked the damp cheek tenderly. "We don't know Laurier was your brother. I just said that to stop him, okay?"

Hot liquid spilled onto his fingers. "Ray… I know…" Renny's voice broke and he swallowed audibly. "All my life I've… I've felt things, and I never knew why."

"But…" Ray fell silent when Renny's fingers touched his lips.

"I felt him die, Ray. I felt it."

He remembered those screams. At the time he'd simply thought they were the result of pain and fear that had been suppressed for too long. Dear God… His arms tightened suddenly. Too tight… Renny protested wordlessly and he eased off. "Oh, baby…" he covered the wet face with gentle kisses and stroked his fingers up and down the long back as it shook with sobs.

"Why, Ray? Why did he hate me so much?" The words were choked out between sobs. "I don't understand…"

"Shh…" Ray tightened his hold again, more carefully this time, and Renny accepted it. Of course he wouldn't understand; it wasn't in his nature to hate, or even hold a grudge. "Lissen… are you sure you want to hear it? It's not… not very nice, Renny."

Renny's face turned up to his. There was just enough light for Ray to see the tear tracks on his cheeks and the bright gleam of his eyes. "Please."

"Okay." He kissed the parted lips gently. "He… Laurier… right from the start he was pretty crazy. Maybe not in the usual way, but it was like he didn't care about anything much except getting what he wanted. Armando was like that too. Maybe that's what they saw in each other. It was always a struggle with him, to hold him back. And after a while, I couldn't. Armando couldn't.

"And pain, other people's pain, turned him on." Ray thought about it for a minute. "He was arrogant. The only one who mattered was him. It fascinated him to know that Armando looked so much like Ray Vecchio. I used to get him to talk about it sometimes, just to remind myself that Ray Vecchio ever existed." Looking back, now, he thought he must have been mad… "I think he was… I dunno… disgusted by it a bit, and turned on by it too. He asked me once if I wanted to kill Vecchio. Scared the Hell out of me, 'cause I thought he was offering to do it for me."

Renny was watching his face, and God only knew what he saw there. Ray forced himself to continue. "What I think… I don't know, but I think it would have driven him crazy to know that he wasn't unique. That there was someone else who looked so much like him his own mother wouldn't have known the difference. He had to be the only one."

"He wouldn't let me look at him. Or speak." Renny shivered. "He said he'd kill me if he saw my face."

Ray's stomach lurched sickeningly. Laurier in control and an ally had been frightening enough. Laurier, half crazy and an enemy, was something he didn't want to think about. And Laurier had had Renny for more than a day and a half.

"It's over now. You've gotta go on." Yeah, right. Like he had. He was barely back on his feet after being Armando, so how the Hell was he supposed to help Renny through something like this? "You gotta talk to me when things get bad, Renny. When it gets too much for you, okay? And I'll try to… to make it easier for you. We've only got each other, so we gotta stick together, right?

"All right, Ray." Renny settled into his arms and wrapped his long arm around Ray's waist. "I wonder what they're doing now?"

"Ah who knows… jumping off cliffs probably. I sure hope Kowalski knew what he was letting himself in for." He tightened his arm in a brief hug and got a sleepy giggle in reply.

Maybe they could do it. Maybe.

*

Ray rummaged in the back of the shelf, sure that there must be something better than dried caribou to take with them. This was his last chance. When they left here there weren't going to be any more stores, just lots and lots of snow and ice.

"Ray."

He ignored Fraser's call. There had to be something…

"Ray. Ray. Ray."

He sighed. Sounded like Fraser was serious about whatever it was… He abandoned the search and headed over to the counter. Fraser was reading a note, and when he looked up Ray knew it was something bad by the way he was rubbing his left eyebrow.

"Frase, what's up?" He put his hand on Fraser's shoulder.

"A message from… from Ray…" Fraser held out the paper for him to read.

There wasn't much on it, just that they should return to Chicago, ASAP. And that Renny needed their help. No reason to make the blood drain from his face and a sick feeling settle in his stomach. He watched numbly while Fraser arranged for the sled dogs to be taken care of and the sled put into storage. There was a light aircraft that could take them to the next town, two hundred kilometres away. From there they should be able to get another flight to Whitehorse. It would cut well over a week off their journey, and the message had been waiting for six days already.

*

A crash of gunfire woke him with a start and Ray flung himself to the floor before he realised that it was coming from the television. He swore under his breath and reached for the remote. After a short break to allow his heartbeat to return to something like normal, Ray dragged himself back onto the couch and yawned. It wasn't even that late, just after ten p.m., but Renny had gone to bed an hour ago.

He was in danger of falling asleep again when a soft knock came on the door. Ray struggled to his feet and ambled over. He opened the door and froze.

"Hello Ray." Fraser gave him a hesitant smile. "You're looking well."

It felt like he was back in that damned hotel room and for a horrible moment he thought it had all been a dream and he'd have to go through the nightmare of the last few weeks all over again. When he didn't answer or move Fraser's smile faded.

Behind Fraser, Kowalski shifted restlessly. "You gonna let us in?"

Instead of moving back out of the way, he stepped forward, since that was the only direction his body would let him go. Into Benny's arms. They closed around him and for the first time in over a year Ray felt he was truly himself again. Their lips clung for long moments then reluctantly parted.

Ray stepped back. "I guess you'd better come in."

A smile lurked in Fraser's eyes, but he lifted his small backpack and walked past Ray, followed by Kowalski, also carrying a pack. He followed them into the lounge. "Where's Dief?"

"He's in quarantine overnight." Fraser sank down onto the couch while Kowalski took an armchair. They were both watching him. "Ray, your message…"

Ray sat beside Fraser, keeping a small, discreet distance. "I know… just give me a minute, okay?"

The two of them exchanged a glance. It was obvious that they'd agreed that Fraser would do all the talking. In the short time Ray had known Kowalski, he hadn't noticed that patience was a major part of his character.

He pressed his hands to his face for a moment. "Benny, you remember Laurier?"

It was a rhetorical question; Benny never forgot anything. But he watched as the blue eyes widened.

"I don't know him. How about you fill me in?" Kowalski leaned forward.

"Well, Ray, Laurier is a member of the Canadian Mob. Ray and I arrested him over two years ago." Fraser cast a worried glance at Ray. "But I suspect that the most significant attribute of Mr Laurier is that he bears a quite remarkable resemblance to Turnbull."

"He used to Benny. He's dead." Saying the words was enough to make the sick feeling return, and Ray stood up and stretched. "You want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea, Benny?" Anything to postpone the rest of it.

Fraser followed him into the kitchen. "Ray, what happened? Is Turnbull here?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping." Ray set the electric jug to heat. "How about you fill Kowalski in while I get the drinks ready?"

He took his time over it, not wanting to hear what Benny had to tell Kowalski. When he went out with the mugs, they were sitting in silence.

"How about you tell us what's going on, Vecchio?" Kowalski was practically vibrating with energy. "We come all the way back from the North Pole 'cause of your message and you just wanna talk about some dead guy?"

"Ray!"

Ray over-rode Fraser's protest. "Can it Kowalski." He took a sip of his coffee. "Laurier knew Armando Langoustini."

Kowalski sniggered. "In the biblical sense?"

"Yeah." Ray saw with satisfaction that the grin had disappeared off Kowalski's face. On his other side, Fraser was absolutely still. "So when Armando Langoustini disappeared, it was on the cards that Laurier would wanna find out what happened."

"That's why you wanted us to stay away?" Fraser looked at him searchingly. "Why you went to Florida?"

"Except Renny came back. Why the Hell didn't you tell us?" Kowalski threw himself to his feet. "What's happened to him?"

"Keep your voice down, dammit. I told ya. He's sleeping." Ray swallowed a burning mouthful of coffee, waiting until Kowalski dropped back into the chair before continuing. "It doesn't matter why. What matters is, when Laurier got to Chicago he started asking questions, and he found Renny." His voice gave him away. Fraser's hand clasped his arm gently but Ray ignored him. "Laurier was… he wasn't exactly sane."

"A psychopath." Fraser supplied the information quietly.

"Whatever. He got hold of Renny, but he couldn't stand the fact that they had the same face. It drove him over the edge." He knew, now, some of the things Laurier had done in those forty or so hours. He wasn't about to tell the two of them all of it. But some things were, inevitably, going to come out. "Laurier beat Renny, with his belt; and he raped him. I don't know how many times."

"Go on." Kowalski's voice, hard edged.

"I'd heard Renny was back here, so I came back too. I was too late to prevent Laurier getting hold of him, but at least I knew where to start looking. Didn't take me long to find him." Ray paused, remembering the sight of his lover stretched out on that bed. Remembering the stink of cordite and blood, and the sound of Renny's screams. "I killed Laurier."

They were both staring at him in silence. Fraser cleared his throat. "It was self defence, Ray."

He smiled at Fraser's faith in him. "It doesn't matter. I can't prove it. I shot him in the back of the head, while he was…" at last his voice gave way and he fell silent.

A familiar pair of arms came around his shoulders and he leaned in against Fraser's chest, and shook. Gentle fingers stroked over the back of his head, as he'd done for Renny night after night. Somehow it gave him the courage to go on. If Renny could do it, so could he.

"He was raping Renny when I shot him. I had to pull him off." His voice was thick with emotion and he swallowed, trying to get control of it. "He'd raped me too. He was losing it badly. After he'd finished with Renny, I'm pretty sure he was gonna kill us both."

The couch moved slightly as Kowalski's weight came down on his other side. A hand touched his shoulder lightly. "You did the right thing."

"I had to keep Renny out of it. He wasn't in any state to talk about it. He still isn't. Not to strangers… police." He pulled away from Fraser. "Laurier was his brother. His twin brother. I haven't tried to find out for sure, but he knew. He said he felt Laurier die."

"You believe him." Fraser searched his face.

Ray shrugged, still fighting for control. "I saw what happened when Laurier died. And how Renny was afterwards. He's better now, a bit. I was really scared for a while."

"He's gonna be okay, though, isn't he?" Kowalski's voice was anxious.

"He'll be better now you're both here." Ray turned to Kowalski. "He's gonna need all of us."

"We'll help you both, Ray." Fraser's voice was quietly determined. "Are you all right?"

The gentle inquiry nearly set him off again. "Yeah. It wasn't so different from what he was like in bed… except…"

"Except it was rape." Kowalski finished it for him.

"Yeah." He would have said more, but a sound from the bedroom had him on his feet. "I gotta go see to him. Hang on."

Renny was still sleeping, but the covers were scattered, and his broad chest heaved with each breath. Ray touched his arm lightly and waited for him either to settle into deeper sleep, or wake. After a moment the blue eyes opened.

"I'm sorry, Ray." Renny trembled slightly under his hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I got a surprise for you." He slid his hand down to take Renny's in a gentle grasp. "Fraser and Kowalski are back. You wanna see them?"

His whole face lit up and he nodded emphatically. "Oh, yes, Ray."

"Hey guys, you wanna come in? Say hello?" Ray pitched his voice loud enough to carry to the lounge.

A moment later a pair of shadows across the bed heralded their arrival. They came in, Fraser moving to sit on the edge of the bed behind Ray, and Kowalski to sit on the other side. Renny looked from one to the other with a hint of uncertainty now showing on his face.

"Hey, Renny. How you doin' buddy?" The gentleness in Kowalski's voice surprised Ray.

"Ray…" Renny's face twisted and he pushed himself up and into the other man's arms. Kowalski caught him and held on, his head bowed over Renny's.

Ray hadn't expected this kind of reaction from either of them, but he shifted, obedient to the pressure of Fraser's hand on his shoulder and they left the room together.

*

When they reached the lounge, Ray went to stand by the window, lifting aside the curtain just a fraction to look out into the night. After a moment's painful uncertainty Ben went over to stand behind him. "Ray..."

It was intended as more a warning of his presence than anything else. Ben took one last step, touched the slender shoulder lightly and felt Ray flinch. They stood without moving for a while, then Ben gently kissed the back of Ray's long, elegant neck. When Ray didn't pull away or speak, Ben moved closer still sliding his hands down Ray's arms until he held his lover in a loose embrace.

Words never came easily to him, not when it came to this kind of situation. He could spin Inuit stories for hours on end, or pontificate on facts and figures forever, but when it came to matters closest to his heart he was always struck dumb. Eventually he sighed, knowing that Ray understood this about him, hoping that somehow he could communicate his love without words. His lips brushed once again across the nape of Ray's neck, and he nuzzled the soft bristles of Ray's hair.

At last Ray relaxed against him for a moment before turning in his arms. They kissed, slow and tentative, and then Ray leaned heavily against him, his head resting against Ben's shoulder.

"I feel like I've finally come home." Ray's voice was almost inaudible and he sounded unutterably weary.

Ben knew he wasn't referring to Chicago or this apartment and his throat tightened. "You have, love."

A tremor ran through the slender figure in his arms and he realised with a shock that Ray was crying quietly. It shook him to the core; he hadn't seen Ray cry since Irene died. As much as Ray liked to complain about Ben's reticence, when it came to pain, emotional pain, he was… well not stoic perhaps, but certainly no more inclined to display that pain openly than Ben was himself.

"Benny, there's more. Something I didn't tell you." Ray avoided meeting his eyes. "Laurier… he didn't use condoms when he raped us. We've had the blood tests, but…"

"It's all right." Ben struggled to keep the shock out of his voice. "Ray, whatever happens, we're going to be together. All of us."

"Yeah. We'll have to be careful, Benny. More than we were before." Ray sighed listlessly. "Renny doesn't talk much about it. I don't think it's really sunk in. He's too messed up with all the other stuff."

He pulled Ray closer and held him tightly, but after a moment Ray straightened, wiping at his eyes rather ineffectually. Ben raised his hand to smooth away a stray teardrop and then kissed him. This time Ray's lips parted easily and the kiss deepened, becoming a true homecoming. He rubbed his hands slowly up and down the long back as Ray began to relax against him.

"Oh… uh…" They both tensed at the unexpected sound of Kowalski's voice.

"Ray." Ben smiled at his other lover. "It's all right." He hesitated, unwilling to move away from Ray but wanting to reassure Kowalski.

"Sure. I'll just… uh, maybe I'll take a shower." Kowalski smiled nervously.

Ray fidgeted. "How's Renny?"

"He's okay. Sleeping." The thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Guess I'll take that shower now."

"All right, Ray." Ben smiled once again. "Don't feel you have to wait up for us. We'll probably talk for a while."

"Sure. Whatever." Kowalski turned away.

Ray was very still in his arms. "He doesn't sound too happy, Benny. Is he gonna be okay with this?"

"I believe he's a little nervous, Ray. He'll soon adjust, I'm sure." Ben hesitated, recalling a few conversations and the way the two men had behaved towards each other in the past. "Of course it would help if…"

"…if I don't give him a hard time." Ray grinned. "I'll be good. It ain't gonna do Renny any good either, if the two of us are fighting over you. They seem kinda friendly." He looked inquiringly at Ben.

"Turnbull's in love with Ray." Ben smiled a little. "And Ray's very fond of him."

They both grinned. Turnbull was a hopeless romantic, as Ben had discovered, to his own embarrassment and confusion, when he'd first arrived at the consulate. More often than not the object of his passion was completely unaware of it; only occasionally did the big Canadian have the chance to act on his emotions, and, if he didn't, they soon faded. On rare occasions something more came of it. As it had with Ray. Now it seemed Kowalski was likely to be the next to fall under Turnbull's spell.

"Just like him to want both my lovers." Ray dropped into the couch and rubbed the back of his neck. Ben, still standing, looked down at him uncertainly. "I was joking, Benny."

"I know. I was just…" he rubbed his eyebrow rather wearily. "Ray do you still want me?"

"I thought I'd made that pretty clear tonight. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ben sat beside him at last. "I wasn't sure how you were feeling, that's all."

"You really wanna know?" Ray didn't wait for an answer. "Let me show you."

For long minutes Ben was lost in the scent and taste and feel of him, and even when they parted, it was no more than a fraction of an inch between their lips while they took a couple of deep breaths before kissing again. Somewhere in that time Ben's arms went around him. It was the place where they both belonged, breathing with one breath; their hearts beating in the same rhythm.

"Oh God…" Ray leaned in, his cheek slightly rough against Ben's. "God, Benny…" his whole body began to shake uncontrollably.

Ben tightened his arms around him. "Hush, I have you Ray. You're safe now." He ducked his head a little and they kissed again, briefly.

They shifted slightly as Ben leaned back into the couch, drawing Ray with him. Ray leaned against his shoulder and gave up all control to his lover as Ben's hands gently touched him, stroking his back, his cheek, his arms. He caught hold of one square hand and twined his fingers with Ben's.

"I'm okay, you know. It's just… too much, too quickly. I need time, that's all." He shifted his head to look up into Ben's face. "God, I love you…"

This time, when they kissed, it was different. Needier, for both of them. Hungrier. Ben pulled away first. "Ray, I'm sorry. I shouldn't…"

Ray kissed him again. "It's okay. I want this too. Just go slow, all right?"

"All right." A tiny smile flickered around Ben's mouth. It was going to be all right. Ray wanted him, needed him as much as he ever had. Everything else might have changed between them, but not that one crucial thing. "Let me love you, Ray."

"It's what I'm waiting for, Benny." Ray grinned wickedly, but Ben saw the uncertainty lurking behind that grin and hesitated. So in the end, it was Ray who reached for him, pulling at Ben's shirt and undershirt until he had enough space to slide his hands underneath to touch bare skin.

Strange how the touch of one man could be so different from another's. He would have known the difference even had he been blindfolded. And as much as he loved Ray Kowalski, loved making love with him, his body was starved for the touch of his other lover. Neither of them could ever replace the other… if he'd ever had any doubts about that, he didn't any longer.

It was difficult to rein in his eagerness, but for Ray's sake he needed to do it. Ray's hands slid over his back with a slow neediness that set Ben's nerve endings on fire, but he was very aware of how much had happened since they'd last made love, over a year ago now. He took his time unbuttoning Ray's shirt, gently easing it off his shoulders so he could kiss the warm smoothness beneath. His fingers teased the soft springy hairs that peeked over the top of Ray's undershirt and Ray laughed breathlessly.

"Oh, Benny…. God, I've missed you." Ray stirred beside him, making an effort to remove Ben's shirt altogether.

Ben paused to assist. "And I you, Ray." He helped Ray peel off his undershirt, then dragged his own off over his head, blessing the fact that he wasn't wearing his longjohns. "I'm so glad you've come back to me." It sounded almost painfully lame, but Ray just smiled up at him, no doubt remembering how poor he was at expressing his emotions.

They settled back into the soft embrace of the couch, with Ray leaning against Ben's shoulder and for a while they simply enjoyed the pleasure of being together and the caress of skin against skin. Ray sighed and lifted his long fingers to stroke Ben's chest. Memories of nights spent here, in this apartment, doing much the same thing came back to Ben and he kissed Ray's temple lightly.

"Hey, Benny…" Ray hesitated, his green eyes searching Ben's face, then he reached up to draw Ben's head down to kiss him.

This time Ben was able to hold back his eagerness, and they kissed slowly, easily. Nothing else seemed to matter now. When the time felt right, Ben turned Ray in his arms and pressed his mouth to the base of his throat. He felt a sigh thrum softly against his lips and smiled. Ray's hands moved lazily over his back, his arms, his chest; Ray's body was relaxed in complete acceptance against his. What more could he ask for?

They continued the cautious advance, gradually relearning the intimate landscapes of each other's bodies. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Awash with confusion, it was easy for Ben to keep things slow, but eventually the simple touching and kissing became less than completely satisfying. They were both breathing faster, but Ray seemed comfortable with their progress. Ben lowered his head over one dusky nipple and gently placed his lips against it.

The chest beneath his head rose sharply with Ray's gasp, but long fingers immediately came up to hold his head in place, sliding sensuously through his hair. Ben sucked at the sensitive tip, drawing it to a tiny, hard peak and Ray moaned, then laughed huskily. Good. Ben's fingers came up to play with the other nipple and silence descended for a while.

But Ben was becoming uncomfortably aware of his own increasing arousal, and when Ray began to stir restlessly it was easy to move a little, just enough to feel Ray's growing erection against his thigh. Ray grinned at him, flushed and just a little nervous-looking as Ben slipped to the floor and knelt between his long legs.

The tremor in his hands was only a minor hindrance as Ben managed to fumble the button at the waist of Ray's pants open and draw the zipper down. Then the button of his shorts. He peeled back the double layer of cloth nervously, watching Ray's face all the time. Then his gaze dropped to include the swollen darkness of Ray's cock. He stroked the length of it with the backs of his fingers and it lifted into his touch.

Another flickering glance at Ray reassured him and Ben bent over to kiss the velvet smoothness of the tip. Ray's scent, familiar, rich and earthy, enveloped him in sensuous memories and he paused for a moment to savour them, then lifted Ray's cock to take it into his mouth. His lips slid down to the wiry curls at the base in a smooth glide, dragging a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan from Ray's lips. They had done this a thousand times and memories came flooding back, of lovemaking sweet and sensuous, passionate, relaxed and companionable. All these and more, far more.

Ray's body undulated beneath him, thrusting gently into his mouth. Ben ran his hands lightly over Ray's belly relearning all the planes and angles of his lover's body.

"God… Benny…" Ray's fingers clasped his head lovingly, guiding his movements then drew him free and pulled him up until they were face to face. Only this time, Ben was lying sprawled across Ray, balancing his weight on his elbows, placed either side of Ray's body.

They kissed again, while Ray unzipped his jeans and pushed his boxers down. Ben smiled. "Like this?" He moved his hips slowly, enjoying the friction of their cocks rubbing against each other.

"Oh, yeah…" Ray's back arched and his hips thrust up.

It was perfect; the sensations a delight, the feeling of closeness exactly what they both needed without placing too much of a demand on Ray's faith in him. Ray sought his mouth and they remained locked together as the pleasure mounted. Their hands moved continuously, touching lightly everywhere, never lingering too long, simply trying to cover as much ground as possible.

And then it changed. Ray's hips thrust up urgently and he wrapped his arms and legs around Ben, holding on desperately to him. His hands slid down Ben's body, urging him on as his breath came in short gasps. Ben was helpless to resist Ray's need; he twisted in Ray's grasp and tightened his grip on the couch cushions, trying to stabilise himself. He matched the rhythm of Ray's thrusts. It felt like they were melding seamlessly into a single organism, questing for a single goal.

At the last they found it together. Ray's arms tightened painfully and a choked cry came from one of them, though Ben wasn't sure which. Wet heat spread between them, draining all the fire out of his body, leaving him limp with exhaustion.

Ray's breath scorched his temple. Ray's arms cradled him, one arm curled across his hip, the hand cupping his buttock. The other was wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Ben kissed the pulse beating in Ray's throat and licked away a trickle of sweat. He could have lain like this all night, except that his weight would eventually become a discomfort for Ray. When he thought he had the energy Ben rolled away a little, pulling Ray around with him so they lay along the couch on their sides, facing one another.

Green eyes blinked sleepily, mere centimetres away from his. Ray's full lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Stay with me a while."

Ben drew him closer. "Always."

*

It felt strange to lie alone in the big bed. Sure he'd slept in it before, but never alone. Before, there'd always been Renny and Fraser there, and Ray just couldn't get off to sleep alone. Got out of the habit months ago, after he and Fraser became lovers. He sighed, rubbed his eyes and looked over at the alarm clock. The digital display told him it was after two in the morning and they were still in the lounge.

He hadn't heard a sound in a long time. Long enough for him to wonder what the Hell they were doing. And then, finally, there was a sound, just a quiet murmur of voices, not loud enough to wake somebody who was already asleep. A shadow flickered across the wall. The hall light had been left on, probably for Renny's sake, but only the far corner of the room was lit by it.

Ray closed his eyes hurriedly as Fraser and Vecchio came in, but not before he saw they were both naked. Well, he hadn't had any doubts about one thing that they'd probably be doing… When Fraser slid into the bed, he could even smell the sex. He concentrated on breathing slowly, like he was asleep.

They settled into the bed with Fraser beside him, Vecchio on the far side. The rustle of bedding settling around them stopped and all Ray could hear was the sound of breathing. Maybe now he could sleep.

He thought he did for a while, but all too soon he was awake again. Then he realised what had woken him. The quiet rustling of the sheets, the moist, muted sound of stolen kisses. He turned his head, squinting through half open eyes but couldn't see much past Fraser's broad shoulders. Still there was no doubt about what was happening… almost on cue, he heard a sigh, a muffled whimper, and the silken murmur of a hand caressing skin.

This was just too weird. He'd known from the moment they'd turned back towards Chicago that something like this was going to happen, and he'd thought he could handle it, but he'd never expected to lie next to the two of them while they made love. Even less had he expected to be so turned on by it. Ray had no intention of joining in, though. What was happening next to him was too quiet, too intense; not at all like the uninhibited lovemaking he'd shared with Fraser and even Renny. Something told him he couldn't be a part of it; didn't want to be a part of it.

He could hear them speak, their voices pitched so low that, even from a distance of a few inches, he couldn't make out the words. More kisses, and then Vecchio rolled onto his back pulling Fraser on top of him. Ray clenched his eyes shut and tried to will his rebellious cock into submission. But after a moment he opened his eyes again. He felt like a voyeur, but still he couldn't help himself.

Fraser was kissing Vecchio slowly. Not on his mouth, but covering the face he held between his hands; and Vecchio… Ray saw the glint of tears streaming from under his dark lashes, sliding down the side of his face. Saw Fraser lean over to lick them away. Vecchio gasped then, and brought his hands up to cradle Fraser's head. Ray swallowed uncomfortably, unable to ignore what was happening, unwilling to let them know they were being watched.

"Ray." Fraser's voice was barely audible. "Are you sure you want this?"

For a second Ray thought Fraser was talking to him, then Vecchio nodded, and he realised his mistake. Fraser reached over to the bedside table and Ray heard the sound of the drawer being pulled out. He knew what was in that drawer, and why Fraser had reached for it. It only took a few moments and then Fraser was poised above Vecchio's body at that unmistakable angle… this time Ray did look away.

Another gasp came, ragged and low. "Oh God, Benny…"

"It's all right… just tell me…" Fraser's voice was shaking. "Ray?"

But there was only silence except for their breathing. It was almost unbearable. When the sounds started again, Ray turned his head just enough to see out of the corner of his eye. Fraser's head was bent over Vecchio's chest, sucking at his nipple as though it was some kind of religious rite. He could see the slow steady movement of Fraser's hips under the covers. The ache in Ray's balls intensified and he had to force himself not to reach for his rigid cock. Then he realised that Vecchio's head was turned towards him, and Vecchio's eyes were open, watching him.

Before he could react, a hand grasped his, almost painfully tightly. "Benny."

Fraser's head came up and turned unerringly towards him. "Ray." In spite of the dimness he could still see Fraser's smile.

"It's okay. I'll go sleep with Renny." Ray pushed himself up onto one elbow, but the grip on his hand refused to release him.

Another, familiar, hand joined in. "You don't have to do that."

Ray gulped a lungful of air. Somehow he'd forgotten about breathing. He looked at Vecchio and saw a kind of reluctant agreement. It didn't feel right to join them; this was something too private for him to be a real part of. "Well… uh, I'll just stay here then. You guys, er… you carry on, okay?"

Fraser grinned. So, amazingly, did Vecchio. "Ray…"

"No, I'm fine. You just… you know…" Ray sank back down to the mattress. "Don't mind me."

Fraser leaned over to kiss him. He tasted of Vecchio. God! The jolt went straight to Ray's groin. But Fraser was turning back to Vecchio, his hips already moving rhythmically. Vecchio's eyes closed and his head tipped back, baring a long throat with a prominent Adam's Apple. The hands closed over his remained where they were.

He'd have to do something. The pressure in his groin was mounting, to the point of being painful. Voyeur or not, nobody could expect him to just lie there and do nothing. Still feeling uncomfortable, but now desperate as well, Ray slid his free hand down over his cock and wrapped his fingers around it.

It was obvious there weren't going to be any fireworks tonight. The silent intensity of the two men was almost frightening. But it was also obvious that neither of them was going to last very long. Ray pumped his cock unmercifully; for all sorts of reasons he didn't want to be doing this after Vecchio and Fraser had finished.

Something in the atmosphere of the room must have infected him; maybe it was just the smell of sex, heavy and fragrant, that hung around the bed… whatever it was, Ray was soon fighting to hold back, to wait for his companions. It seemed an eternity before he heard Fraser's controlled breathing shatter. Vecchio moaned, body arching up against the one that covered him, and they all gave way in the same instant.

Floating in a pleasurable daze, Ray was only dimly aware of the necessary clean up. He felt someone, probably Fraser, wipe his belly; heard the toilet flush. Felt somebody pull the covers over his shoulders. He could smell an unfamiliar scent and assumed that it must be Vecchio, lying beside him. He opened his eyes reluctantly and saw Fraser on Vecchio's other side. He guessed that was okay; certainly he was too tired to worry about it. He closed his eyes and let himself drift…

…and woke to the sound of screams. A sudden upheaval beside him only added to the confusion. Cool air rushed into the space where a warm body had been and Ray shoved himself upright in time to see Vecchio's bare ass disappearing out the doorway. It finally sank in what was happening as Fraser passed the end of the bed, heading for the hallway. Ray threw himself after the pair of them.

When he got to the guest bedroom the door was open no more than a fraction of an inch and Fraser was standing outside. The screams had stopped and Ray could hear Vecchio's quiet voice inside. His heart was pounding in shock. "Anything we can do?"

"No. I believe Ray would prefer to handle this. He knows what to do." Even Fraser looked rattled and after a brief hesitation Ray leaned against him, sharing warmth and comfort.

It wasn't long before Vecchio came out, looking drawn. "Go back to bed. I'll spend the rest of the night with Renny. I just need to get my pyjamas."

They followed him down the hallway and watched uncertainly as he pulled on a pair of striped flannel pyjamas.

Fraser looked worried. "You're sure, Ray? Perhaps one of us could… it's been a difficult night for you."

"It's been difficult for all of us." Vecchio smiled tiredly. "I'm glad you're back."

Ray watched as they kissed, and laid a hand briefly on Vecchio's shoulder. "Take it easy."

"He'll probably be okay now." Vecchio shrugged. "It just happens sometimes."

Vecchio's tired acceptance of those nightmarish screams spoke volumes for what both he and Renny must have been through. Ray watched him as he left the bedroom and turned to Fraser with a frown. "It sounds bad, Frase. Just as well we came back, I guess."

"Yes." The slate blue eyes met his wearily. "Ray and Turnbull may have been exposed to HIV, Ray."

"Ohmigod… Frase…" he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Laurier? He was positive?"

"We don't know yet.". Fraser rubbed his eyebrow, the way he always did when he was troubled. "Ray's still waiting for the autopsy results, but if Laurier was infected, they'll have to have tests for the next six months before they're cleared. It's not going to be easy for them."

It was late. He was tired and he'd had too much happen tonight to be able to deal with this. Hard on that thought came the realisation that he had some kind of a choice. For Renny and Vecchio, there was no choice but to deal with it however they could. He stared at Fraser speechlessly.

"Come to bed, Ray." Fraser smiled tiredly and held out a hand.

That was an invitation he wasn't likely to refuse. Even if he had to crawl to get there. They settled amongst the still warm bedding, lying close together and Ray sighed. He didn't want to think what lay ahead for the four of them. Not tonight.

"Ray, are you going to be all right with this… um, arrangement?" Ben's voice, coming just as he was drifting off to sleep again, startled him.

Ray rubbed his face, trying to jumpstart his brain. "Yeah, I think so. What about Vecchio?"

"He'll adjust." Fraser sighed. "After what he's been through, he'll need some leeway. Can you give him that?"

He remembered what Vecchio had been like last time they'd been in Chicago. Okay, so maybe he hadn't helped much. It still wasn't going to be easy. "I guess I'll have to, won't I?" He turned to face Fraser, kissed him slowly. Still tasted of Vecchio, which pretty much summed up the situation. "It's okay. I know how important it is. For you and for Renny. I won't screw up. I'll try not to let Vecchio screw up, either, God help me. Can I go to sleep now?"

Fraser smiled, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. "Goodnight Ray."

Ray sighed in relief. Sometimes Fraser just never knew when to shut up. "Night, Frase…" And sometimes he did.

*

The folder was sitting in his tray, innocent as all Hell, not seeming like anything important. Ray had been ignoring it all morning, except for the occasional feeling that he was waiting for a time bomb to explode. He'd get to it. When he was ready. Later.

Someone came over and sat in the chair he always thought of as Fraser's. He looked up. It was Kowalski. "Yeah?"

A big grin crossed Kowalski's face. "I'm in. Starting tomorrow."

"Okay." That was pretty much what he'd expected. Fraser was already back working at the Consulate and he knew Welsh was short handed after a spate of retirements and resignations. "See you later, then."

Kowalski scowled. "You could try looking happy about it."

"Another time. I'm busy." He fiddled with his pen and tried not to look at the tray. He had the crazy feeling that the folder knew he was scared of it.

"Ray! Good to see you again." Frannie's voice cut across Kowalski's response. She leaned on Ray's desk smiling. "Are you coming back? Harding will be pleased."

"Don't call him that!" Ray's irritation found a convenient outlet. "He's your boss not your boyfriend."

Frannie just smiled archly. "What do you know? Harding would like that autopsy report when you've finished with it."

She wasn't… she couldn't be… Ray decided she was just yanking his chain. "Soon, okay? I'll give it to him."

"You'd better." She waited a moment to see if he was going to react, but he wasn't in the mood. With a triumphant smile, Frannie sauntered away, touching Kowalski lightly on the shoulder as she passed him.

Kowalski was staring at him. "The autopsy? Laurier's?"

"Yeah." Ray heard the defensive tone in his voice but couldn't keep it out. "I'm getting to it." Kowalski just stared at him and after a few seconds he reached for the folder and flipped it open.

There were only two pages in there. Make that one and a half… not much to give hope to two men's lives… or take it away. He skimmed through most of it, found what he wanted and shut the folder. Then he just sat there shaking.

"Vecchio?" Kowalski was standing beside him suddenly, one hand resting on his shoulder. Ray hadn't noticed him move.

"It's…" his mouth was too dry, his throat too tense. He swallowed and tried again. "It's okay, the results were negative."

Kowalski dropped back into the chair with an explosive sigh. He looked up after a moment and gave Ray a shaky smile. "We better go tell the others."

Kowalski drove, which was just as well because most of the trip passed in a daze for Ray. If they talked he didn't remember it. By the time they reached the twenty-fourth floor, Kowalski was just about vibrating with energy, but Ray felt exhausted. He followed numbly as Kowalski breezed through the reception area, tossing a cheerful greeting to the young receptionist, obviously already familiar both with her and the layout. She buzzed them into the secure area, blithely ignoring the sign that said all visitors must be accompanied by a staff member.

Fraser's small office was between Thatcher's and reception. Renny, of course, didn't rate an office of his own, but shared one with another junior officer. There'd be no privacy there, so without needing to discuss it, both men headed straight for Fraser.

He greeted them both with a broad smile, which quickly faded. "What is it Ray?"

"Call Renny in will ya, Fraser?" He couldn't do this twice. Beside him, Kowalski moved restlessly.

It didn't take long for Renny to arrive. He stopped just inside the door, his face paling as he took in the strained atmosphere. His eyes searched Ray's face.

Somehow Ray managed to drag up a smile that felt stiff and unnatural on his face. "I got the autopsy results. He was clean. It's okay."

It was interesting to see their reactions. Fraser smiled his relief, but Renny, still standing by the door, shivered once and then just stood there, frozen. For a moment that was all, then with a rush that was worse than pain, Ray began to feel again. He pulled Renny further into the small room and held him tightly. Renny was trembling, tiny tremors that were impossible to see, could only be felt.

Kowalski reached them first, since he was closest, then Fraser. They all stood in a huddle, wordlessly sharing their relief, acknowledging for the first time just how frightened they'd all been. Perhaps, like Ray, only now admitting it to themselves. At last, with some reluctance, they drew apart. None too soon, as Thatcher burst through the door, a printed form in her hand, demanding information. She stopped mid-speech as she too recognised the tension in the room.

"What is it?" Her voice sharpened.

At least they were all standing far enough apart not to look too suspicious, but the office was far too small for four people to be at a comfortable distance. Fraser moved toward her, his hand going out to take the paper.

"Ray dropped by with some information on the Laurier case. I'll see what I can do with this." He smiled at her, moving closer so that she had to back away or end up chest to chest with him. "And I was meaning to ask…" he ushered her out of the room and they heard his voice retreating down the hallway.

"Phew." Kowalski leaned back against Fraser's desk. "That was close."

"Yeah. You all right, Renny?" Ray thought he looked a bit better.

He was rewarded with a small smile. "Yes, Ray. I'll… I'll be fine."

"Sure you will, buddy." Kowalski pushed himself off the desk. "We should go out and celebrate. You and Vecchio are in the clear and I got a job." He grinned as Renny congratulated him enthusiastically.

There was no doubt that Kowalski's rather irritating energy and cheerfulness had a good effect on Renny. Ray sighed; he'd just have to learn to live with it.

*

"Drugs." Welsh threw the folder down on his desk, well within reach. "A lot of drugs. And the usual accompaniments."

Ray Kowalski threw a glance in Vecchio's direction, expecting an explosion. It hadn't been at all difficult to get back into the Twenty-Seventh Precinct, even with Vecchio back in the job they'd each once held. There was always a place if the Lieutenant wanted someone bad enough, and for some reason Welsh seemed to like him. What he hadn't expected, but probably should have, was that he'd be partnered with the man he'd once impersonated.

It was at best an uneasy partnership. Neither of them could afford, personally or professionally, to get too beat up over it, but neither of them was too happy about it either. They'd managed to crack a few cases together without a lot of friction, but somehow Ray had the feeling that this was going to strain their enforced alliance to the limit.

Right now Vecchio's face wasn't giving anything away, and that in itself was a warning sign. One which Welsh seemed either not to notice, or maybe, not to care about. Ray held his breath as Vecchio leaned forward, as casually as though he was reaching for the television remote, and took the folder off the edge of Welsh's desk. He flipped through the pages, obviously not reading much of what was in there, and laid it back down again.

"With all due respect, sir, why aren't the FBI working on this one?" The quiet intensity of Vecchio's voice made Ray's skin crawl. This was nothing like the man he'd heard about from Fraser, or from Vecchio's own family. There were times when Vecchio scared the Hell out of him. The rest of the time he was just downright annoying.

Lt Welsh eyed Vecchio calmly. Ray knew he'd been cutting Vecchio a lot of slack lately, but it looked like that was coming to an end. "They are, detective. You two will be liaising with them and providing local information. The agents will deal with all other aspects of the case."

"Sounds kinda messy to me, Lou. What's it all about?" Welsh threw a resigned look in his direction and Ray regretted opening his mouth. He regretted it even more when Vecchio stood abruptly and headed for the door.

"Vecchio." Welsh's voice was mild, but inflexible.

Vecchio stopped, his hand already on the doorknob. "This stinks. They don't want me, they want Armando."

"What?" Ray hated it when Vecchio talked about Armando Langoustini as though he was a real, living person. The real Langoustini had been dead over a year and Vecchio wasn't pretending to be Langoustini any more, but he still talked about the Bookman as if he were a real person, somehow separate from himself. It gave Ray the creeps. "Sir, what about Vecchio's cover? If someone who knows Langoustini sees him…"

It would blow his own cover as well as Vecchio's. And then Fraser and Renny would be in danger too, most likely. Welsh didn't bother to deny anything. By the look of it, he wasn't any happier about this than they were. "I'm sorry detectives, but the case is already assigned. I don't have a say in this and neither do you."

Ray pushed himself out of the chair and picked up the folder. "Vecchio's right. This sucks."

Welsh sighed. "Just be careful."

*

Ben reached the southern end of the bridge at State Street and stopped, waiting for the lights to change. But by the time they did, he was still unaccompanied by his subordinate. They'd got into the habit of walking to the Consulate together from the point where Ray, one or other of them, dropped them on Lake Shore Drive. It wasn't unusual for Turnbull to fall behind; he was fascinated by the Chicago Tribune building, with its collection of stones from various parts of the world set into the wall, and would often stop to look for places of interest to him. It had become a habit for Ben to go on ahead, but Turnbull always caught up with him by this point.

Unable to ignore a twinge of worry, he turned and saw Turnbull standing halfway across the bridge staring down into the water. The worry deepened suddenly. Ben hurried back across the bridge. By the time he reached Turnbull the younger man still hadn't moved. Ben reached out and, very carefully, touched his broad shoulder.

Turnbull flinched slightly and turned a startled gaze on him. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hold you up."

"It's all right Renfield, we still have…" he glanced at his watch. "We still have ten minutes. Is something wrong?"

But Turnbull was blushing and shaking his head. They continued their walk across the bridge. "I was just watching the patterns in the water, Sir."

Ben looked at him doubtfully. Ray Vecchio had told him too much about Turnbull's behaviour in the days before he and Ray Kowalski had returned to Chicago. He knew that Ray had been afraid that there might be a suicide attempt. It was still a possibility. Turnbull was prone to odd behaviour… odd even by his usual standards. None of them was really sure that it was safe to leave him alone for any length of time.

Turnbull caught the look and blushed even more deeply. "I'm fine Sir, really."

"We're not on duty yet, Renfield." Ben managed a self-conscious smile. It still felt very awkward to call Turnbull by his given name, but it was necessary, he supposed. Their relationship, inevitably, was becoming closer now that all four of them were living in the same apartment.

Turnbull's eyes widened slightly at the implied invitation. "Yes, Benton… oh, look!" With a rather forced exclamation of pleasure, he darted over to a shop window filled with sports memorabilia. "They've got a Leafs jersey!"

With a small sigh that he hoped Turnbull hadn't noticed, Ben went over to inspect the item. Changing the habits of two years wasn't going to be easy for either of them.

*

Ray made it to the bathroom just ahead of Vecchio, and shut the door in his face with a triumphant grin. One of the big drawbacks to the way they were living now was that getting a shot at the bathroom in the mornings had become a major problem. It helped that both Fraser and Renny were early risers and not inclined to hang around, but the same could definitely not be said of Vecchio. Well, this time he was in there first, and Ray decided he was going to make the most of it.

The water was scalding hot, since the two Mounties seemed to prefer ice water showers, and Ray relaxed against the tiled wall, enjoying the feel of the water streaming down his body. After a while, though, he pushed himself away and got busy with the shampoo. He didn't want to push Vecchio too far; their partnership at work was shaky enough and he didn't want it to spill over here at home. It would only hurt the others and neither of them wanted that.

He'd just finished rinsing out the lather from his hair when a warning tickle of cold air against his back made him turn. Vecchio was there, naked. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"I need to have a shower." Vecchio's grin was hard edged and more than a little disturbing. "Mind if I join you?"

There was more than enough room. Like the bath, this shower had been designed for use by more than one person. Ray thought fast, and moved aside. "Sure. Shampoo?" He tossed the bottle to Vecchio.

"Thanks." Vecchio's eyes dropped to the bottle as he unfastened the cap, and Ray reached for the soap.

It was kind of unsettling. Not that it was the first time he'd shared this shower, only the first time with Vecchio. And Vecchio was… well, he was acting kinda strange. Ray half turned away from him and tried to concentrate on washing off and getting out of there. Then a hand brushed his shoulder and he flinched.

"Want a hand with that?" Vecchio's voice was even, giving nothing away, but his eyes held an unnerving gleam.

A pulse beat warningly in his throat as Ray turned to face him. So Vecchio was coming on to him. It wasn't exactly unexpected; at some point this was bound to happen. They both knew it and accepted it. Ray just wasn't sure that now was such a great time. But he'd decided to let Vecchio set the pace on this one, and if that was what he wanted, then they might as well do it.

Ray summoned up that confident little 'fuck you' grin that always worked so well when he felt cornered. "Okay. Here ya go." He handed the soap over to Vecchio and was unaccountably relieved when Vecchio grabbed the washcloth that hung on the soap rack.

A firm hand turned him away and the cloth began to move in light strokes over his back and shoulders. Ray leaned his arms against the wall in front of him and rested his forehead on them while Vecchio continued. It felt pretty good, especially when the cloth reached his lower back and began a slow massage of his butt. Ray felt his cock starting to take an interest and closed his eyes, swallowing to ease his suddenly tight throat. The cloth slipped between his cheeks, lingering there a while longer than was really necessary and after a moment's hesitation he pushed back a little against Vecchio's touch.

After another light caress the cloth was removed and Vecchio's unseen presence retreated slightly. Ray lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder, but Vecchio was just soaping up the washcloth again, his eyes downcast. Ray turned, leaning back against the wall, watching.

Okay, so he preferred big guys, like Frase and Renny, but still, Vecchio wasn't bad. He had to admit, he kinda liked the olive skin, not that dark, really, except when he was next to Fraser or Renny; and the triangular patch of hair between his nipples, now clinging wetly to his skin. Ray's eyes followed the point downwards as it converted into a thin line that reached to his navel, then continued to that other, smaller, patch of hair at his groin where Vecchio's cock swayed, half erect and darkly elegant above his balls.

There was a distinct tightening in his groin, and a tingle in his thighs. Ray's eyes lifted to meet a dark green gaze that gave nothing away.

"So, you ready, Kowalski?"

Ray had a feeling Vecchio wasn't talking about the soapy washcloth. He nodded. "Yeah. Go for it."

Vecchio moved closer again, but simply resumed his washing. Except that whenever the cloth moved over Ray's nipples, it lingered a while. Gradually the cloth dipped lower. And lower. Ray swallowed. Vecchio's face was only inches away. Too close for comfort unless they were going to kiss. But Vecchio made no move, and Ray couldn't bring himself to start it. The whole situation was starting to feel a little creepy; then Vecchio's eyes released his and Ray breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The cloth was between his legs now, having skipped over his swelling cock. Suddenly it moved up again, capturing his balls and massaging behind them. Ray's heart began to pound. This was it…

Vecchio was leaning against his side, staring down at his hand as he stroked and teased at Ray's cock and balls. Ray stared at Vecchio's intent face and stifled a small moan. Normally by now he'd be letting loose, but the eeriness of Vecchio's behaviour was starting to get to him. It didn't stop him getting hard though.

"Turn around." Vecchio's voice was rough. Ray took a quick look at that dark cock, hard and eager now, and obeyed.

Vecchio's hard, wiry body pressed him against the shower wall, and Vecchio's cock slid along the cleft of his butt, the tip probing at his asshole just long enough to make him nervous. Then Vecchio's arm wrapped around his waist and the hot shaft nestled comfortably in his butt crack.

One of Vecchio's hands was on the wall beside his, fingers clenching uselessly on the smooth tile. Ray felt the narrow hips move, slowly at first, then faster, harder. It felt good, really good, but Ray's unattended cock throbbed insistently, complaining of neglect. Just as Ray was about to take matters, literally, into his own hands, Vecchio's hand slid down over his belly and long fingers wrapped themselves around his shaft.

Ray relaxed a little, allowing Vecchio's thrusts to push his cock through that tight grip. It was starting to feel really good, the strangeness forgotten now that his body's demands were clamouring in his head. He could feel Vecchio's head resting against his shoulder, hear the harsh grunts as Vecchio drove against him. Just as he was getting ready to shoot, Vecchio pulled away almost violently, releasing Ray's cock and leaving him stranded.

Shit. Ray choked back a sob of frustration and turned his head. Vecchio was leaning against the wall beside him, eyes tightly closed, lips clamped together. His nostrils flared with each heaving breath. Ray hadn't felt him come, but he must have, because now his cock was hanging limply between his legs.

"Geez… Vecchio…" Ray stifled his protest as Vecchio's eyes opened and fastened on his. He couldn't read the emotions in them, but he didn't need to. Suddenly his unsatisfied state didn't seem quite so important any more.

Vecchio's face suddenly relaxed into a bland mask. "Sorry. You want me to finish you off?"

"Yeah. That would be nice." He closed his eyes and tried to relax as Vecchio's hand went back to its stroking. It didn't take long for the sensations to take over, driving out all other considerations. He thrust sharply, just once; felt the hot contraction of his balls, the rush of power through his cock, and gasped aloud.

The hand stroking his cock didn't stop, following him down into limp pleasure. Then Vecchio moved away, allowing him as much space as was possible. When he opened his eyes Vecchio was rinsing off his soapy body under the rapidly cooling stream of water. His eyes avoided Ray's and when Ray moved away from the wall, Vecchio muttered something and slipped out through the narrow opening of the shower door.

By the time Ray had quickly soaped himself and finished, Vecchio was wrapped in a towelling robe and reaching for the bathroom door. It opened on a fully uniformed and smiling Fraser. They both froze.

Fraser's smile broadened. "I knew you two would hit it off eventually."

Ray was lost for words. Hitting it off somehow didn't seem to exactly describe what had just happened between them. He saw Vecchio's shoulders tense, then relax slightly.

"Sure, Benny. We're getting along just fine." He slid between Fraser and the partly opened door and disappeared down the hallway.

The smile slipped a bit on Fraser's face and he cocked his head inquiringly. "What happened, Ray?"

Ray shrugged. "Damned if I know."

*

"Hey, Frase… you busy?"

Ben looked up from his paperwork to see his lover's spiky blond head poking around the edge of his office door and smiled. "I can take a few minutes, Ray. Come in."

Not one, but both of his lovers came into his office and Ben assessed them with a Mountie's eye. Ray Vecchio was tense and withdrawn, and Ray Kowalski jiggling with suppressed energy. Ben sighed. Something was wrong. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

The blond avoided his eyes. "Uh… we wanted to talk to you about Renny."

"Oh?" Ben felt himself tense suddenly. Wasn't Turnbull… Renfield… on guard duty right now? It was one of the few times in Ben's day when he could feel reasonably sure that nothing was going to go wrong. "What's he done now?"

"He hasn't done anything, Benny." Ray Vecchio scowled at him. "He's not the problem here. You are."

Before Ben could react to this unexpected attack, Ray Kowalski interrupted. "Lay off, Vecchio. That ain't gonna help." Left fair and square in the crossfire, he eyed Ben placatingly. "It's just that you can be kinda hard on him Fraser, and Renny doesn't need that right now."

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny the accusation, but Ben hesitated. It wasn't often that the two Americans agreed on anything, and unheard of for the two of them to unite against him. He folded his hands on the desktop. "Go on."

"Benny, he's a damn sight smarter than you think he is. He knows how you feel about him, and it hurts." Ray looked at him pleadingly. "Just give him a chance."

"Ray, I…" Ben stopped, unsure of his ground. For all Renfield's awkwardness and annoying habits, he was quite well liked by most of the Consulate staff and there had been times when Ben had depended on him and had not been disappointed. He sighed. "Perhaps you're right. I'll try to be more… understanding."

Both men broke into relieved smiles. "It'll mean a lot to him, Benny."

"Yeah, Frase. You know how much he looks up to you." Ray Kowalski came closer and slapped him on the shoulder. "He needs all the help he can get right now."

Guiltily recalling the conversation he'd had with Ray on that very subject, several months ago, Ben sighed again. He had tended to take Renfield's fixation on him somewhat smugly for granted without considering how his actions would affect the younger Mountie. "I'll try to remember that the next time he breaks one of Inspector Thatcher's favourite vases."

*

Working with Vecchio was turning out to be a lot like working in the Bomb Squad, Ray thought. Not that he ever had, but it was pretty much the way he imagined it might be. You never knew when something was going to blow up in your face. Even something like a simple trip to the deli for sandwiches could turn sour without any warning.

It wasn't his fault they'd stumbled across a hold up. It for sure wasn't his fault the punk was high on something. It had been a damn dangerous situation and Vecchio, as usual, had tried to take control, like he was trying to prove something. Okay, so Vecchio had managed to get him to release all the customers, leaving just him and Ray and the deli owner still inside. It was about then that the squad cars arrived, sirens screaming, and the punk had started firing wildly. They'd been lucky to get out alive.

Once it was all over, and the uniforms had taken the punk away… not their precinct, not their problem, thank God… Vecchio had followed him back to the GTO and they'd driven back to the stationhouse in an ominous silence. Almost as soon as they got in the door, Vecchio turned on him. "What the Hell did you think you were doing?"

"Trying to help you, dammit! What's your problem, Vecchio?" Kowalski glared at his partner and fought the urge to pop him one. "He was aiming right at you. Was I supposed to just stand there and let you get shot?"

"Help me? You damn well nearly got me killed!" Vecchio's fists clenched, but he made no move to attack, and after a moment Ray released the breath he'd been holding. They'd never actually come to blows yet, but that didn't mean it would never happen. "Just keep out of my way. I can look after myself."

People were getting hurriedly out of their way as they stalked along the hallway. He wondered why Vecchio had waited until now and decided he had probably chosen the safest option. At least they couldn't duke it out in full view of the whole precinct. "Well, if you'd just trusted me for one fucking second…"

The doors flew open banging against the wall and every eye in the Bullpen was briefly on the two of them. Then there was a collective rolling of eyes as everyone went back to their work. Ray Kowalski noted this with one corner of his mind. It seemed like nobody paid much attention to their fights any more. Even Frannie had given up trying to stop them.

Vecchio was still yelling but Ray suddenly wasn't in the mood. He grabbed the thin arm as it waved wildly before his nose and pulled his partner around and back out into the hallway.

"Now what?" Vecchio's green eyes blazed at him. "For God's sake, Kowalski…"

"We gotta talk, Ray." He saw, with satisfaction, that his use of Vecchio's first name had the effect he'd wanted. "Come on."

Vecchio followed him down the hallway without another word. The only place they'd be able to talk was the interview room. He'd just have to hope that half the precinct wasn't crammed into the observation room watching them.

"Okay. So talk." Arms folded across his chest, Vecchio watched him warily.

It brought him up short. Ray knew that he needed to get this right, but he wasn't good at explaining things. Fraser could do it better, except that Fraser couldn't do this at all. Only he could. Talk about performance anxiety…

"This ain't working, Vecchio." He was answered by a short laugh. "We're trying to do too many things at once. Trying to be too many things… partners, friends, lovers… it ain't working."

Panic flared briefly in Vecchio's face before he turned away and it reminded Ray of how close to the edge the other man still was. "So what are you saying?"

"Look…" he went over to stand behind Vecchio, and met his eyes in the mirror. He put his hand on the thin shoulder. "I'm not giving up, okay? I just think we need to take it slowly."

Vecchio's eyes dropped. "Go on."

"I was thinking…" he swallowed hard, he hadn't been thinking at all. He was trying to make this up on the trot and it was scaring the Hell out of him. "Maybe I should move out of the apartment."

"You can't." The muscles under his hand tensed up again. "Renny needs you."

"Not as much as he needs you." Ray hesitated. "He needs you to be together for him, and you're not together. Not even close. Maybe if it was just the three of you… well, some of the pressure would be off you." And off Fraser, for that matter. "Frase could come see me at my place sometimes. I could visit you guys. It's not like we'd be totally cut off."

"No." Vecchio's head shook slowly from side to side. He'd started to tremble.

Vecchio wasn't going to tell him what the problem was. That much was obvious. Ray thought about it and wondered if he was simply not ready to be alone with Fraser. He knew the two of them had been making love. Hell, he'd seen them making love… but maybe… maybe Vecchio was doing it for Fraser's sake. It was becoming increasingly obvious that there was something wrong between the two of them. Maybe he wanted Ray there to take the pressure of Fraser's needs off of him. He moved a little closer and lowered his voice. "Ray, I just wanna do what's best for all of us. If moving out isn't gonna do it, why don't you tell me what will?"

Vecchio sighed and let his head drop forward tiredly. "I don't know. I'm just… just scared. Renny's not getting any better. I thought he was at first but he isn't. I can't help him."

"You're wrong." Ray squeezed his partner's shoulder gently. "You are helping him, just by being there. You know what he's going through. If it wasn't for you he'd be in some psych ward by now. Or dead, maybe."

A shiver ran through the slender body. "Maybe what he needs is somebody who doesn't know what he's going through. Somebody who never knew Laurier."

"Maybe he just needs both of us." Ray thought about that and decided Vecchio was probably right. They both were. "And Fraser. He knows he can trust Fraser. I guess it's some kind of Mountie thing." He grinned and saw it faintly echoed on Vecchio's drawn face. "Okay, so I don't move out. But we should take it easy. Don't try to force things, okay? Let it just happen between us." He backed away slightly, offering Vecchio some space.

The other man turned to face him. "What if it doesn't 'happen'?"

He faked a double take. "What us? Are yer kidding? A sexy Eye-talian stallion like you and a hot stud like me not get it together?"

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Vecchio's mouth. "Don't get mushy on me, Kowalski. Next thing ya know I'll be bawling my eyes out like my nieces when they see Bambi's momma dying."

In fact, his eyes were suspiciously bright, but Ray just grinned and hugged him lightly and planted a no more than friendly kiss on his lips.

*

There was never enough white-out. Vecchio searched in his drawers for his secret supply and heard Kowalski cursing behind him as he tore another sheet out of the typewriter and started over. Ray grinned. It seemed like things were slowly improving. Even Renny was more relaxed, more like his normal self. Fraser was happy; and he and Kowalski were getting along okay. Maybe one day everything could get back to normal. That had seemed impossible to him only a few weeks ago. Now it seemed attainable.

His cell phone rang. "Yeah, Vecchio. What is it?"

"Ray?" It was Fraser, sounding worried. "I need your help. Can you come over right away?"

"Sure. What's wrong?" He was already rising, signalling to Kowalski. It had to be Renny, nobody else could bring that longsuffering tone to Benny's voice.

A sigh gusted in his ear. "Renfield's locked himself in the bathroom."

Ray laughed in sheer relief. "Again? Is that all?" He waved a casual hand at Kowalski as he came over.

"No, Ray. He's locked himself in the bathroom. He won't come out." Ray could almost see Fraser rubbing his eyebrow in concern. "Inspector Thatcher's… well, she's not pleased. There's a delegation due at any moment, and…"

"We'll be right over." He flipped the cell phone closed. Kowalski was right behind him, trying to listen to the cell phone. "Something's up with Renny. We better get over to the Consulate fast."

"I'll drive."

Kowalski brushed past him, and Ray caught his arm. "We'd better both take our cars. There's no telling what's going on."

As soon as he was in the police pool car, Ray started the siren and put his foot to the floor. Kowalski was on his tail the whole way over. When they got there, he simply abandoned the car without even locking it and ran inside. Fraser was in the reception area and hurried them through. It was obvious the security had been beefed up for this visit and that he wanted them out of the way fast.

Once in the secure area Fraser's face relaxed into a worried smile. "He's through here." He led them into Thatcher's office. No wonder she was pissed.

"Renny." Ray knocked gently on the wooden door. "Renny, it's me. Come on out of there."

Nothing.

He knocked again. "Renny, open up, willya? We're getting worried here."

"I ca…" Ray thought he heard a muffled sob. "I can't…"

A hand touched his shoulder and Ray glanced back to see Kowalski close behind him. "Renny, it's Ray. We're all here. You can do it, buddy. Come on and open up the door."

"No! Please… leave me…" a definite sob that time, then silence.

"Renny I know you can do it." Ray tried to keep the fear out of his voice. He gestured to the others to leave and they obeyed in silence. "It's just me here now, baby. You can do it, okay? Just unlock the door. That's all you have to do, I won't even open it, okay? Just reach out and unlock the door for me."

There was a long pause and then, finally, a faint click. Ray let out a shaky breath. "Can I come in, Renny?"

"Ray…"

He didn't wait for anything more definite. He eased the door open carefully, not knowing what to expect, and not wanting to startle Renny into doing anything dangerous. But the young Mountie was sitting hunched up on the floor, half under the wash basin. His face was flushed and streaked with tears and he was holding a crumpled sheet of paper in his hands. The eyes that lifted to meet Ray's were full of pain.

Ray squeezed into the small space beside him and put his arms around the red serge clad shoulders. "It's okay now, baby. It's gonna be all right."

Renny's face twisted and he turned into Ray's loose embrace and began to sob. Just listening to him induced a heart-pounding, skin-crawling, gut-churning reaction, but there was nothing Ray could do except to hold him and whisper reassurances into his ear. After a moment he gently eased the paper out of Renny's large bony hand and shoved it into his pocket.

By the time Renny had calmed a bit, Ray's legs were starting to cramp, and he guessed that Renny would be incapable of standing on his own. He kissed the short hair beneath his chin. "I'm gonna need some help getting us outta here, Renny. That okay?"

Renny gulped and nodded wordlessly. Ray figured Fraser and Kowalski wouldn't be too far away, and when he called, they were there in seconds. He stared up into their faces, feeling faintly ridiculous, but accepted Fraser's hand to get him to his feet. He left Renny to Kowalski's aid, but as soon as the Mountie was on his feet, Renny was looking anxiously around. Ray went to his other side, supporting him with an arm around his waist and after a moment Kowalski moved away slightly.

Fraser simply looked at him questioningly but Ray still had no idea what had caused all of this. Except that it had to be something to do with the paper. He fished it out of his pocket and handed it over. Fraser glanced at it and his face suddenly went completely blank.

"What is it?" Kowalski went to his side and turned the crumpled sheet towards him. "Shit."

Renny was starting to shake again, leaning heavily against him. Ray held out his hand and Fraser passed it over to him with obvious reluctance. At first the words made no sense. Then he realised he was looking at an official request from Ottawa for the repatriation of the body of John Laurier, Canadian citizen, currently in the care of the Chicago city morgue. Laurier's parents would be arriving in two days to accompany their son's body back to Canada.

It made him feel sick and disoriented. God only knew how Renny was feeling. He passed the form back to Fraser. "I'll take him home."

"You want me to come too?" Kowalski looked shaken. He reached out a hand to touch Renny's then stopped as he stiffened and shrank back against Ray's side.

That decided it. "No. We'll be okay. I'll see you both later."

*

It came as no real surprise to find the apartment apparently deserted, but Ben simply went into the guest room, Kowalski on his heels, and found the two of them in bed and fast asleep. Turnbull's face was completely buried against Ray's bare chest, but Ray's face was unobscured. Even in sleep he seemed exhausted, and his eyelids were reddened.

They retreated and, after a whispered consultation, Kowalski went to buy some take-out from his favourite Chinese restaurant and Ben went into the kitchen to get the table ready, with Dief in close and hopeful attendance. By the time Kowalski was back everything was ready.

"You think we should just let 'em sleep, Frase?" Kowalski cast a doubtful glance towards the closed bedroom door.

He'd been weighing up the pros and cons as he'd worked. He'd checked on them again when he'd gone into the master bedroom to strip off his tunic and found they hadn't moved. All the same, neither of them were eating very well at the moment and lately Turnbull had taken no interest in cooking at all. It was becoming rather worrying.

"I'll wake them." He brushed a kiss across Kowalski's cheek as he passed. "I won't be long."

Vecchio's eyes opened as he peeked in the door, regarding him sleepily. Ben smiled. "We've got some Chinese, Ray. It's ready, on the table."

"Yeah?" A huge yawn interrupted what he was going to say next. Then he looked down at his still sleeping companion. "Maybe I better stay with him. I can eat later, Benny."

That wasn't at all to Ben's liking. "Ray, I think…"

"Ray?" Turnbull stirred, lifting his head. "Ray, what…"

He sounded better, no more than sleepy and confused. Ben advanced into the room and Turnbull's head turned to him. "How are you feeling, Renfield? Better?"

"Oh yes… I'm… I'm fi…" Turnbull broke off with a gasp, his eyes widening, then recovered fast. "I'm feeling much better, thank you." Behind him, Ray's head shook slightly from side to side and his arm tightened across Turnbull's back.

"Well…" Ben decided to change his plan of attack. "Ray's just brought some Chinese take-out home. I was thinking we could all eat in here. We'll bring it through." He left before either of them could think of an excuse to refuse.

It only took a moment to transfer everything onto a couple of trays and carry them into the bedroom. By that time Ray and Turnbull were wearing cotton robes and leaning back against a mound of pillows. Dief positioned himself strategically and Kowalski and Ben perched on the bottom half of the bed.

It was a silent meal. Kowalski was the only one among them with any appetite, though Ben forced himself to eat at least an adequate amount. Ray and Turnbull ate next to nothing, until Kowalski began feeding Turnbull bits of chicken and vegetables with his chopsticks and ignoring his blushing attempts to refuse.

Taking advantage of Turnbull's preoccupation, Ben leaned toward Ray. "You should eat more, Ray. Set a good example for Renfield."

Ray favoured him with a sardonic look but lifted a fork loaded with noodles to his mouth and began chewing without much sign of enthusiasm. It was better than nothing, Ben supposed, but not nearly enough. When both men refused to eat another bite, Kowalski began to clear the dishes away, closely watched by Dief. Ben didn't budge from his position on the bed.

Two faces, both of them too thin and too pale, turned towards him when Ben cleared his throat. "Renfield, I've told the Inspector you were taken ill and that you won't be at work tomorrow." He swallowed to ease a sudden tightness in his throat. "We can't allow Mr and Mrs Laurier to see you."

He saw, by the widening of their eyes that neither of them had even thought of it. The fact that Ray hadn't seen it troubled him. It wasn't like him to be so imperceptive. But at the moment it was Turnbull who worried him most. "You know… you should look on this as the closing of a chapter, Renfield… an appropriate time to put the whole affair behind you…"

"Benny…" Ray's eyes flashed him a warning. "Don't…"

"No, Ray. It's all right." Turnbull's voice was shaky but determined. His lashes were darkened and spiky with unshed tears. "I'll… I'll try, Benton." He made a brave attempt at a smile.

"Good man." Ben smiled back approvingly while Ray shook his head and muttered "Canadians" under his breath.

*

A tap on the window roused them both from a bored silence. "Anything happening?"

"Nah. I don't figure they're gonna turn up today." Ray glanced over at Vecchio. He didn't think they were going to turn up at all; at least not here. He started up the engine and shifted the stick into first gear.

But Vecchio was talking across him to the Federal agent. "You guys ready to take over? Hope you've got a good movie in there." He nodded towards their expensive, late model car. In this neighbourhood it stood out like the Titanic in a powerboat regatta. Only the FBI would use a car like that for a stake out.

Ray grinned. They'd spent five long hours here and it had been a total waste of time. Whatever might have been planned to go down here, their birds had got wind of it and flown somewhere else. The sight of that car, if nothing else, would put paid to any chance of a successful bust today. "Have fun. See ya later."

Three blocks later Vecchio cracked a huge yawn. They'd been sitting in this car for way too long, not talking for most of the time, and both of them were half-asleep. "So, you wanna go back to the Stationhouse?"

"Not really. You got an idea?" Going back to the Stationhouse would mean paperwork at best, or being dragged into some low priority case that they would inevitably have to drop when the Feds came calling for them again.

"Movie?" Vecchio shrugged. "I don't care."

"Are you kidding? We've been sitting around all day. No point in changing sitting a car for a seat at the movies." Ray drove on, his mind only half on the road, and realised he was driving in a certain direction… he wondered whether to say something or just go there. Better not to spring it on Vecchio, he decided, but how was he going to say this? "Hey, you wanna go see your Ma? Frannie said you haven't been over there in a while." Frannie had said an awful lot more than that, but he wasn't about to push his luck by telling Vecchio exactly what Frannie had said.

"I've been busy." Vecchio looked out the side window. "She's probably out with one of her cronies right now anyway."

"She says your Ma's pretty unhappy. Says she hasn't seen any of us in too long." Uneasily aware of the silence from the other side of the car, Ray carried on. "I like your Ma, she was good to me while you were…" too late he realised where his ramblings were taking him.

"You leave Ma out of this. And you leave Frannie alone, okay?" Vecchio's face was furious. "They're my family and I can take care of them. Turn the car around."

"Fine." He took a left at the next corner, crossing too close in front of oncoming traffic, but Vecchio didn't say a word. Just as well Fraser wasn't here, or he'd have had something to say about it. But then, if Fraser were here he'd be busily calming Vecchio down right now, and Ray didn't have a clue how to do that.

Ray saw the pool hall coming up on the right and had almost passed it before he remembered Fraser telling him once about Vecchio's father and how the only thing Vecchio had admired about him was his pool playing ability. He pulled into a narrow side street just pass the building and parked. Illegally, but it was a police car, for God's sake. If it got ticketed, the department could pay for it. Or, even better, they could pass it onto the FBI. Say they saw something suspicious… he grinned. "How about a couple games of pool?"

Vecchio threw him a sulky look and lifted one shoulder fractionally. "All right. One game."

Inside it seemed almost pitch black after the bright sunshine, but the room was almost empty, which was a bonus. Ray paid for the table and a beer for himself, cranberry juice and soda for Vecchio. Vecchio was busily checking out the cues and tables. Finally he settled on one table that he said he thought might be okay and picked out the two best cues he could find. Vecchio's remarks about the quality of the place were luckily too low pitched to carry to the owner.

They played in silence for close on half an hour, taking their time over the shots. It was better than trying to breach the distance between them. Most of the time he and Vecchio got on pretty well, but every so often something like this would blow up out of nowhere. He never knew when he was going to say the wrong thing.

The game was a slow one. Neither of them was playing particularly well, but gradually Vecchio was beginning to relax. When he paused for a drink after a good shot, Ray decided it was worth another try. He cleared his throat nervously. "Hey, Vecchio."

"Yeah?" Vecchio looked at him warily, glass in hand.

"Look, I don't wanna… I mean…" he rubbed his head and tried again. "Fraser used to tell me about your family… how much you care about them. But… well, you've hardly seen them since you got back. Frannie and me, we got this kinda brother/sister thing going, and she's worried about it."

"Frannie should keep her nose out of it." This time Vecchio's voice was reassuringly mild.

"Yeah, well…" Ray took a sip of his beer while he thought about what to say. "She loves you. And she loves your mother."

"Are we playing or not?" Vecchio put the glass down and lined up his next shot. It was an easy shot, but the cue ball went wide and only narrowly missed going into the pocket. He turned away. "Your shot."

Ray hesitated over his own shot, then laid the cue down without taking it. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Since when did you become a shrink, Kowalski?"

"Got anybody else you want to talk to?" That got him a glare from over Vecchio's shoulder, but he seemed more resigned than angry. "You don't wanna upset Renny, and I figure maybe there are some things you'd rather tell me than Fraser." He shrugged. "It ain't like you really care what I think of you."

"Yeah? Ya think so?" Vecchio turned to look at him squarely.

It was the closest they'd ever come to acknowledging the growing attraction between them and Ray felt unexpectedly shy. He smiled nervously and ducked his head.

Vecchio sighed. "I just don't want her to see what's happened to me, all right? It's better this way. I'll go round sometime when she's too busy to see too much."

"Like Thanksgiving? Maybe Christmas?" Ray shook his head. "What? She's got radar? What's she gonna see?"

"Armando." The name hung between them like a curse. Vecchio backed up a few steps and dropped into a cheap plastic chair. His hands fiddled uncomfortably with the cue. "She'll see right through me. She always does. I don't want her to see that."

"Oh yeah. Like she sees right through you and me and Renny and Fraser all living in one apartment." Ray shook his head. "It'll be okay, Vecchio."

Vecchio laughed softly, but when he spoke his voice was quietly bitter. "One thing Ma learned from Pop was not to ask questions she doesn't want the answer to. She won't ever ask about that, Kowalski. You can count on it. But Armando…"

He pushed away thoughts of what sort of louse Vecchio's old man must have been. "She's your mother, for God's sake. She knows you had a bad time undercover. Fraser's talked to her, so has Frannie and Lt Welsh."

"What?" Vecchio looked up at him, his face showing shock and fear.

"Hey, don't freak out, okay? No details, just general stuff." Ray lifted his hands warily. "Frase told me she called him at the Consulate. He just said you had some stuff to work out."

"Oh God." Vecchio dropped his head into his hands and cursed quietly. "When was that?"

"A few weeks back." It looked like Vecchio wasn't going to go crazy. Ray went over and put his hand on Vecchio's shoulder. "He convinced her to wait for you to go to her. But Frannie says she's really worried about you."

"That's all I need… you and Benny and Frannie and Ma all talking about me behind my back…"

"Hey! You gonna finish that game?"

Ray glared over at the owner and then around at the almost empty room. Another pair was playing at a table down the other end of the room. They were the only other people around. "Why? You need the table?"

The other man wiped the bar with a grubby towel. "It gets busy later."

"I bet it does. You got a license?" He started toward the bar, reaching for his badge, then stopped as Vecchio grabbed his arm.

"My game's off. Might as well go." Vecchio drained the last of his drink and put the glass on the edge of the pool table. Ray followed him out into the brightness of a late afternoon sun and they walked back to the car in silence.

"It's nearly five." Ray took a deep breath. Maybe it was worth a chance. "We could pick up my car, swing by the Consulate, pick up Fraser and Renny and head out to Octavia."

"Reinforcements?" Vecchio shook his head and sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll have to do it sometime."

"No sense in putting it off." Ray grinned, relieved that at least one of Vecchio's hang ups was going to be dealt with. "Besides, I guess two Mounties and a couple cops ought to be enough to handle one Italian momma."

Vecchio laughed shakily. "Are you kidding? I thought you'd met her."

*

Dinner had been the familiar chaos that Ben remembered from the days before Ray had gone undercover. He'd visited a few times with Ray Kowalski, but those meals had been comparatively subdued. Tonight Ray had borne the full blast of the Vecchios in high spirits and had visibly reeled under the impact. Ben smiled reminiscently.

Even Renfield had handled it better than Ray had. He and Dief had spent most of the time before dinner playing with Maria and Tony's kids, their friends, and a few assorted junior cousins and then he'd fallen asleep after dinner, sitting in the big armchair with Maria's youngest crashed out on his lap.

More importantly, Ray Vecchio had seemed to be all right. Mrs Vecchio had refrained from asking too many questions though she'd exclaimed over his loss of weight and then rushed into the kitchen to start the preparations for his cure. The meal had been enormous; second and third servings were declared mandatory, and they had almost staggered out to the lounge to recover in front of the television. As they left, each of them was required to kiss Mrs Vecchio on the cheek and promise to return soon, and to look after "poor Raimundo".

'Poor Raimundo' had dozed all the way back to their apartment in the back seat of the GTO along with an equally somnolent Renfield and a practically comatose Diefenbaker. They all trailed up to the apartment and Ben, for once, was thankful for the elevator.

He headed for the bedroom to change out of his uniform. Dief would need a walk, and so did he after that meal. Renfield went into the guestroom, no doubt on the same mission. Even his dedication to the uniform waned somewhat after more than twelve hours of continuous wear. Perhaps he should invite Renfield to accompany him. It was clear that the other two were becoming closer all the time, perhaps the contentment that comes after a truly inspired meal would aid further development of their relationship. It wouldn't hurt to give them some privacy.

But when Ben came out of the bedroom, the guestroom door was open barely a crack and the light was out; a sure sign that Renfield had gone to bed. Well, that had the same result for less effort on his part. He tried not to feel relieved. He could hear quiet voices coming from the lounge, so he made his way cautiously to the doorway and peeked in.

The two of them were standing close together, each half turned towards the other, their heads bowed a little as though they weren't quite ready to meet each other's eyes. They certainly seemed remarkably comfortable, apart from that. Ben smiled in admiration of the picture they made. One blond and fair skinned, the other darker, with a nose of elegant proportions and brooding green eyes. One dressed in an Italian designer suit, the other in admittedly rather worn jeans and a casual polo shirt, but each undoubtedly attractive. Each with his own way of moving that was fluid and sensual, so unlike himself. He remembered with a smile Ray Kowalski's assertion that he moved like a block of wood.

"…well, I appreciate it anyway. Thanks for talking me into going."

"Hey, for a meal like that, I'd hog tie you and drag you over there, Vecchio." Ray's hands were firmly shoved into his jeans pockets, but he glanced up at the bowed head.

Ben thought he saw a glimmer of a smile. "Yeah? What makes you think you could handle it, Kowalski?"

Ray grinned and said nothing. The silence drew out until both men were beginning to look uncomfortable. "Maybe I'd get Fraser to help." Ray's voice was soft. He looked at his companion and took a half step closer.

That was definitely a smile tugging at the corners of Ray Vecchio's full lips. His head came up too and they looked into each other's faces for the first time since Ben had been watching. Then Ray Kowalski lifted one arm and drew the other man into an awkward half hug. They laughed quietly.

Ben would have tried to sneak past then, but Dief wuffed impatiently from behind him and the two men turned towards the sound, moving apart. He sighed and stuck his head around the door. "I'm just taking Dief for his walk. Renfield's gone to bed. I'll, uh… see you later."

It came out rather awkwardly, and Ben tried not to flinch. His lovers looked at him with identical expressions of affectionate amusement.

"Sure Benny. I thought I'd sleep with Renny tonight, anyway. Give you two some time alone." Ray yawned exaggeratedly, a wicked glint in his eyes.

So much for his hopes. Ben tried a last ditch effort. "That's kind of you, Ray, but I'm sure…"

"Hey, I have to put up with him all day. Now yer trying to force him on me at night too? You trying to tell me somethin'?" There was a warning in Ray Kowalski's eyes and Ben decided to heed it. He seemed to have very good instincts about their relationship.

"No, of course not… well, I'd better be going. I won't be long." And in truth it would be pleasant to have a night alone with Ray. There was a certain awkwardness about making love with one lover while the other remained... detached. One day, soon he hoped, the barriers would come down. Unfortunately, it seemed that it would be some time yet before it happened.

*

Ray Kowalski lifted a fork loaded with Renny's best scrambled eggs halfway to his mouth. "Ya know, I've been thinking and…"

"That'll be a first."

He ignored Vecchio's muttered insult. It was only what you'd expect before he'd finished his first coffee of the day. "I was thinkin' that I'd go see Mom and Dad this weekend. They're in Des Moines for a couple months. God knows why." He thought about that for a moment and shrugged. "Anyway, they're gonna head down to New Mexico for a while after that, so…"

"That's a good idea Ray. Will you be staying with them?" Renny smiled brightly at him.

"Hell, no." His response was instinctive. "Not if I want to still be talking to them afterwards." He looked up from his plate to see two pairs of wistful blue eyes watching him. He kept forgetting how the two Canadians basically had no family. Beneath the table another pair of eyes were fixed firmly on his fork. The similarities were kinda frightening.

"Don't get on too well with your folks, Kowalski?" Vecchio grinned.

"Ray." Fraser stared reprovingly at Vecchio. "Ray and his parents have a very good relationship, I thought."

"They're okay." He shrugged. "Dad and me get on better if we're not too close, if you know what I mean. I'll just stay in a motel."

"Uh, Ray… would it be all right if I…" Renny blushed. "I mean… I wouldn't want to intrude, but…"

"You wanna come with me?" Ray stared at him incredulously. "I'll probably end up just hanging around with them. There's nothing to do in Des Moines."

"Oh, I'm sure I'd find something to do, Ray. I just thought it would be nice to…" Renny looked at him helplessly.

"All right." Ray pushed back his chair and carried his plate out to the kitchen. "We'll leave after my shift ends tomorrow."

Renny followed him out. "Thank you, Ray. I won't be any trouble, I promise."

"No problem." He studied the long face for signs of trouble but didn't see any. "Is there some reason why you wanna get out of town?"

"Oh! Well, I did rather have an ulterior motive, Ray." Renny moved closer and lowered his voice. "I think Benton and Ray should have some time alone. Don't you think they're a little… well, irritable with each other?"

Ray shrugged. "Vecchio's always irritable. It don't mean anything."

"No." Renny looked suddenly miserable. "He's not, Ray. Or at least he wasn't, once."

"That wasn't what I heard at the Precinct."

"But he wasn't with us… I mean with Benton and me. Not all the time." Renny smiled mournfully. "He's never unkind to me, but he's not happy. Not like he used to be, with Benton."

He didn't need to hear that. As much as he was getting to like Vecchio and respect him, there were still times when he wondered just what was going on in Fraser's head. But he trusted Renny's instincts with people and there was no doubt that it would be nice to have a happy Vecchio instead of a whining Vecchio.

"Well, whatever." He grinned and hugged Renny. "It'll be fun. Just don't you tell Mom and Dad about us, okay? I don't think they're ready to hear about the four of us."

*

"Go on, run! Whaddaya waiting for?" Kowalski Snr thumped the arm of his chair in disgust. "He coulda stole third base, easy."

Ray just grinned. His dad always took a hands-on approach to watching baseball, even if it was on the television and the game had in reality finished over an hour ago. His mother, sensibly, had gone outside when the game started.

Beside him, Renny stirred restlessly. "Well, actually sir, a strict interpretation of the rules would…"

Ray's father turned a grouchy stare on him. "Doesn't he know anything about baseball?"

"Oh, yes, I do Sir." Renny leaned forward eagerly. "In fact, I played junior league…"

Ray put his hand lightly on Renny's arm. "He means… uh…"

"I mean shuddup, is what I mean."

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ray felt Renny's arm tense beneath his hand and his eyes widen before they dropped to stare at the floor. "Dad..."

But the next batter was ready at the plate and his father just waved a hand to indicate he wanted silence. The batter struck out, much to Kowalski Snr's disgust and the commercial break came on.

"Uh, Ray…" Renny's smile was forced. "I think I'll just go for a little walk."

"I'll come with you." He wasn't too keen on letting Renny wander off alone. It wasn't as if he knew this area at all.

Renny was already on his feet. "No, I'm fine. You watch the game." He exited hurriedly as Kowalski Snr made a rude noise at some ad for motor oil.

"Renny." Belatedly, Ray shoved himself to his feet and prepared to follow.

"Let him go. What's the matter with the boy, anyway? Can't he take a little ribbing?" Kowalski Snr reached for another beer. "What do you want to be hanging around with such a pantywaist for?"

"He's not a pantywaist, all right?" Torn between defending Renny and worrying about him, Ray hesitated in the doorway of the mobile home. "He's had some bad stuff happen lately, that's all."

"Are you talking about your friend, Ray? He seemed a bit upset." Mrs Kowalski craned her neck round the doorway and gave her husband a resigned glance. "You haven't been rude to our guest have you dear?"

"I better go after him." Ray cut across his father's protests. "Did you see which way he went?"

His mother smiled. "I told him there was a park just half a mile down the road. I think he's gone there."

"Thanks, Mom." Ray kissed her cheek as he left.

It didn't take long to reach the park, but Renny must have walked faster. He was already involved in a game of touch football with a gaggle of young kids of various ages watched over by a couple of girls in their mid teens. As Ray watched, he allowed one small girl to tackle him to the ground, whereupon the whole group, including, Ray presumed, Renny's own team, piled on top of him.

Ray grinned and relaxed. Renny loved kids; he'd even liked those brats belonging to that bounty hunter woman who'd made a play for Fraser. He'd be okay.

"Ray. Come join us." Renny got unsteadily to his feet with three of the kids still hanging off his shoulders.

He just laughed and shook his head and wandered over to the girls.

"Hey mister, is he really a Mountie?" The prettier one smiled up at him beguilingly.

Ray groaned inwardly, having encountered that kind of look before. "Yeah. He sure is. And I'm a cop." He flopped down on the grass beside them.

"Really?" The other girl looked pleased. "I told you he was. Chrissie didn't believe him. She thought he was some child molester or something."

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

It was the kind of exchange could go on forever. Ray interrupted during a strategic pause. "So, these kids all yours? Your brothers and sisters, I mean."

Chrissie rolled her eyes. "And all their friends. It's Randy's birthday today and Lou's Mom got sick of the noise and told us to bring 'em all to the park."

Lou grimaced. "Yeah, 'cause her boyfriend came over." Both girls pulled a face.

"Well, I'm Ray, and he's Renny." Ray gave them a friendly grin. "Nice to meet ya."

"He told us." Chrissie cocked her head. "What kind of name is that, anyway?"

"He's Canadian." Ray grinned at their expressions.

Both girls shrugged. "Oh."

Ray settled back to watch Renny and the kids, and to fend off the girl's more flirtatious remarks. Eventually Renny declared the opposing team to be the winners, with no apparent justification, and came over to join them.

"Hey buddy, having a good time?" Ray glanced at his watch and figured that the game would be over by now. "We'd better be getting back."

"Oh yes." Renny smiled brilliantly, his earlier distress completely forgotten. "Your mother promised to show me how to cook Cielerina. And genuine Pierogy. She got the recipe from your great grandmother."

"Sounds great. Well, let's get at 'er." Ray dragged himself to his feet. "See you later girls."

Renny scrambled up, much to the dismay of his playmates. It was only Chrissie and Lou's insistence that it was time for them all to go home, and Renny's farewell to each child by name, that prevented a small riot.

As they walked away, his fingers brushed against Renny's hand then grasped it gently. "Look, don't let Dad get to you, okay? It's just the way he is, he's not too good with words sometimes."

Renny's pace faltered a little. "All right, Ray. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"I know you didn't, buddy." He squeezed the large hand. "It's just… well, Dad doesn't either. Not really. Just try to remember that, okay?"

*

A quiet sigh told Ben that Ray was waking at last. He rolled onto his side to watch, his eyes skimming over the bare skin, warmed to a golden honey colour by the late afternoon sun. Green eyes stared back at him, blinking drowsily. Ben leaned over for a gentle kiss.

"Damn." Ray's voice was husky. He yawned and stretched against the sheets. "I'm sorry, Benny. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

He kissed Ray again. "I daresay you needed it… even if it doesn't say a lot for my technique."

"There's nothing wrong with your technique, believe me." Fully awake, Ray stretched out his arms, wrapping them around Ben's body. "Now where were we?"

"How about we recap?" Ben's mouth closed over Ray's, warmly inviting, and his hands began their interrupted examination of Ray's slender, elegant body.

It was a wonderful luxury for them to be alone together for a whole weekend. Ben didn't regret for a moment the decision he and Ray Kowalski had made to return to Chicago, and to live here with Ray and Turnbull, but there was no denying that moments of privacy like this were rare for all of them. A whole two days of it had seemed an impossible dream.

And Ben was beginning to recognise that Ray was not as fully recovered from his ordeal as he tried to pretend. He could hide that fact almost anywhere except here, on this bed, with Ben. Like now, when every response he made to Ben's caresses seemed just a little too… deliberate. Ben debated for a moment and then came to a decision. Without giving Ray any warning he rolled on top of his lover, slid a knee between his thighs, and made it very clear what he intended to do next.

There it was. That fractional hesitation, a hint of tension in the slender body, quickly repressed, and then Ray was arching up against him, almost plunging himself onto Ben's cock. Carefully, Ben withdrew and moved away a little, noting as he did the tiny flicker of relief in Ray's face.

"Something wrong, Benny?" Ray couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.

Ben kissed him gently. "Why don't you tell me?"

For a moment Ray's eyes widened, then his eyelids dropped, casting a veil over his thoughts. It occurred to Ben that Ray had become extremely good at hiding his emotions while he'd been undercover. It was understandable of course, but Ben mourned the changes in his once vocal and mercurial lover.

"You've changed, Ray..."

He was interrupted by an ironic laugh. "Yeah, well, being undercover will do that to ya, Benny."

"Was it being undercover, Ray? Or was it being raped that makes you afraid of me?" He waited as Ray's lips tightened and he sat up abruptly.

"Afraid of you, Benny?" Ray smiled suddenly. "I'm not afraid of you. I could never be afraid of you."

The tenderness in his voice was utterly convincing. Ben sighed. "Then what is it? There's something wrong, Ray. You can't go on hiding it. You need to talk about it."

Ray scowled. "Oh that's great Benny. I need to talk? What about you?"

"Me? There's nothing wrong with…" Ben's voice trailed off before Ray could interrupt him again.

"Come on, Benny. You think I haven't noticed the way you've been behaving? You never used to fuss like you do now. Wanting to know where I am all the time. You think Kowalski hasn't noticed? Or Renny? Why do ya think they went away together this weekend? It sure wasn't so he could introduce Renny to his parents."

"I don't suppose it was." Ben hesitated. It was obvious they'd been left here alone for a reason. He'd assumed it was because the two of them were as concerned about Ray as he was. "Do you really think…"

"What's the one thing we haven't talked about, Benny? We've talked about Laurier. We've talked about why I went to Florida, about being undercover in Las Vegas. What's missing from this picture, huh?" Ray watched him, leaning forward with his long arms encircling his raised knees. "Say it, Benny."

"You left me." Ben clamped his lips closed again. He hadn't intended the words to sound so… so accusatory. He thumbed his left eyebrow absently, seeing the pain blossom in Ray's face. He said it again, quietly. "You left me."

"Yeah. I did." Ray's hand touched his arm lightly.

Ben waited, expecting excuses, explanations, but Ray was silent. "It wasn't even that. I could have dealt with that… have dealt with it. But why did you do it that way? Without saying a word… without asking me." His voice had begun to shake. "Why, Ray? If you'd died…" he dragged in a shaking breath, "if you'd died we would never have said goodbye."

The hand on his arm tightened a little. "Is that important, Benny?"

The words stuck in Ben's throat. He swallowed and wiped a hand across his wet lashes. "All of them died that way… my mother, my father… even my grandparents… they died while I was on patrol, within a few days of each other. I didn't find out until a week later when I got back. I never had a chance to say goodbye to any of them."

Suddenly Ray was at his side, arms reaching for him, and he leaned against that bony shoulder and shook with the pain of years of denial. He was only dimly aware of Ray's voice, quiet and comforting, and of Ray's fingers stroking the back of his neck.

Brief as it was, the emotional release left him exhausted. He stayed, unmoving, in Ray's arms as seconds passed into minutes. A lot of minutes, before Ray sighed and finally started to talk.

"I shoulda told you, Benny. I know I shoulda… I just couldn't." Ray pulled him down so they were lying side by side in the sunlight. "They told me I wasn't allowed to tell anybody, but I coulda found a way. It was just… you know, one minute I'm at my desk and the next I'm in Welsh's office and I'm looking at this picture of me. Only it wasn't me, just this guy who looks so much like me that even Ma woulda been fooled."

Ben lifted his head to look into Ray's face. Even now, after so long, he was clearly disturbed by the memories. "It must have been very… disconcerting for you, Ray. I can understand that it would be."

"Benny, you've got no idea…" Ray laughed shortly. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Anyway, I'm looking at this guy and the Feds are telling me about him. Bad stuff, Benny. Real bad stuff. And somehow it's like it was me who'd done all that stuff. That's how I felt."

"But Ray…"

"I know, I know… it doesn't make any sense, but that's how I felt, okay?" Ray's arms tightened a little, perhaps to make up for the sharpness in his voice. "One of those guys, I think he was a Catholic, 'cause he must've picked up on it. Next thing I know he's playing me for all it's worth. The biggest damn guilt trip since the time I confessed to Father Tomasso that I'd started masturbating."

"Ray, surely…" Ben pushed himself up on one elbow and stared down at Ray, "…surely you didn't agree to go undercover because of that?"

"Because of Catholic guilt?" Ray shrugged. "I dunno. It wasn't like I figured it out at the time, Benny. That came later. At the time I felt… weird… like I was responsible. Or at least like I had to do something about it." He smiled weakly. "Think about it Benny. There was this guy with my face, and he'd done all this stuff and it was like only I could do something to put it right again. That's what they're telling me… and I felt… like I was drugged, or something. Disoriented. None of it felt real. Not for a long time. Believe me, if I'd been thinking straight I never would've taken the job. I ain't no hero like you are."

"I wish you wouldn't…" Ben bit his lip, regretting the sharpness of his words. "I'm sorry. But I'm not a hero, Ray."

"Yeah, sure." Ray leaned up to kiss him. "You would have gone, if you'd been in my place. You know you would."

He had to admit the truth of that. "It would have been my duty, I suppose."

"But you would have said goodbye." Ray stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry, love. If I'd known it was that important to you, maybe I could've made myself do it. I felt so weird. I can't even try to explain… I didn't want to talk to you feeling that way. I didn't even tell Renny goodbye; just wrote him a note asking him to look after the apartment for me."

He didn't understand, but it was obvious that, for Ray, what he described was still all too real, and difficult for him to deal with even now. Ben lowered himself into Ray's arms again with a sigh. And then he realised that Ray had very effectively diverted the conversation away from the original topic of discussion. He sat up again. "So what is it that you're afraid of, Ray? You are afraid of something."

"Benny…"

He could hear exasperation, amusement in Ray's voice. And fear, he thought. "I need to know, Ray. If you're not afraid of me, or of sex…" he let the question hang unspoken.

"Oh, I'm scared of sex all right…" Ray shivered suddenly. "Not of you, though. It's Armando."

It always disturbed Ben to hear Ray refer to his alter ego in this way, as though he was a real person. Clearly, to Ray, he was. "Armando can't hurt you Ray. He's gone, done with."

"Is he?" Ray's voice was sceptical. "I wouldn't be so sure if I was you, Benny. Anyway, I didn't mean he'd hurt me. I'm scared he'll hurt you."

"Ray, that makes no sense." His objection was instinctive. "How could…"

"Benny, you don't know what he was like. Him and Laurier, they were two of a kind." Ray swallowed audibly. "A guy like you… decent, honest, caring… Armando would… he'd see that as weakness. He'd rip you apart just for the Hell of it. He'd tear out your heart and eat it for breakfast. If he wasn't hurting someone he wasn't having fun."

"But you're not Armando, you're Ray Vecchio. You're…"

"I'm Armando too. A part of me is. Maybe always will be, now, Benny." Ray took Ben's face between his hands. "And when we make love, he's there. Waiting." Pain darkened the green eyes and his voice dropped to a whisper. "If I lost control… it would be so easy to lose control, Benny."

"You would never hurt me, Ray. Not like that." Ben looked at Ray's unmoved face and realised that what he'd said had no meaning to his lover. "You'd never allow Armando to hurt me either. I know that as surely as I know that the sun will rise in the west tomorrow."

A faint smile creased the corners of Ray's mouth. "Don't you mean east, Benny?"

"My mistake." He smiled with pleasure at the lightening of Ray's expression. "I mean it, Ray. In control or not, you would never harm me."

A tiny shrug and the fading of Ray's smile were all the response he got. It was painful to see the changes in his lover. Worse to know he could do little about it. Nothing he said seemed to help. Ray loved him; he ought to be able to do something, but Ray eluded him at every turn. Sometimes it felt like he was living with a stranger.

Ben leaned over and kissed Ray gently. If talking couldn't help, perhaps action would be more effective. He felt desperate with the need to heal their relationship and he'd begun to realise that Ray would never be able to cope with the others if the two of them couldn't work this out together.

Ray gradually relaxed against him when Ben showed no sign of wanting to do more than kiss. If he took things slowly… and, of course, he was always happy to kiss Ray. He began a slow courtship, brushing his tongue over already parted lips, ignoring their invitation. He kissed the corner of that mobile, generous smile and sucked briefly on the full lower lip. Ray sighed quietly, moving restlessly against him as if he already needed more.

But it was a long time before Ben offered any more. Even when he began to explore the warm depths of Ray's mouth, he kept it light, almost teasing. A quiet moan rumbled through Ray's chest and Ben laid his hand there to feel the vibration of it in his own flesh.

"Benny…" Ray groaned out his name, breathless and needy, and Ben smiled.

A quick glance downwards revealed Ray's swollen cock moving restlessly on his flat belly. He brushed his fingertips against Ray's cheek. "It's all right, Ray. Trust me."

Ray smiled up at him, his eyes heavy-lidded and drowsy but with a gleam of arousal in their depths. "Sure Benny."

"Good." He bent his head over Ray's throat, licking and kissing the tender skin. He could feel the throb of Ray's heartbeat echoing beneath the skin, could taste the salty tang of his sweat and the slightly metallic residue of his aftershave. He held his body carefully poised above Ray's, touching him only with his lips.

Years of self-denial, before he met Ray, had taught him self-control. Right now he needed that more than he ever had in his life. He ached to press himself against Ray's body, to enter it and take comfort from it. Ray would never dream of denying him, that much he'd learned, but it would change nothing. And more than he needed to make love to Ray, Ben needed to heal the fear that was keeping them apart in every way that mattered.

With infinite care, Ben made his way down the side of Ray's throat, over his shoulder, teasing at the fine, sensitive skin. Even the occasional nip was so light, so delicate a touch that he knew it would leave no mark later. Ray's hands came up to cup his head, trying to urge him onwards, but Ben refused to be hurried. It seemed to take forever to reach the dark crinkled aureole with its tight peak, but finally Ben took it into his mouth, flickering his tongue over the tip.

"Oh God… Benny…" Ray reached for him, hands stroking his side, moving rapidly downwards. He caught them in a gentle grasp.

"Let me do this Ray. Please." His voice was an urgent whisper. He waited until Ray stilled compliantly, then held his wrists down against the mattress, careful to allow Ray the option to break free. But Ray accepted his move with no hint of concern.

Ben teased at the sensitive tip of the nipple, alternately sucking and flicking it with his tongue until Ray was arching his back, lifting against his lips. Ray's breath was coming fast and unsteady now, but that was what he wanted. He shifted his attentions to the other nipple and began all over again. The wiry muscles under his hands tightened as Ray's fingers clenched into fists but still Ray made no move to free himself.

It was frightening to have Ray place so much trust in him. Ben felt his heart begin to pound and tremors start in his arms. He released Ray's wrists and began to stroke the long slender body with light, tantalising touches. Ray responded rather like a large cat, instinctively demanding more as a groan rumbled through his chest.

"Benny…" Ray's voice was gruff with the intensity of his need. "God… Benny…"

"Shh, Ray. Trust me." Ben kept his voice to a soothing murmur. He thrust away all his doubts about what he was doing. For Ray's sake and his own, it was imperative that something be done.

Slowly, Ben caressed and kissed his way over every intimately familiar curve and plane of the body he loved so much. Even though he'd released Ray, the long fingers remained clenched in the bed covers, obedient to his demands.

The scent of Ray's arousal beat at Ben's senses, threatening to overwhelm his own control and he wondered briefly at Ray's ability to hold back when everything about him cried out his need for release. The degree of tension in the wiry body was alarming, but Ben had come too far to stop now. His tongue rasped softly along the crease of Ray's groin as Ben tickled the inside of his thigh, tugged gently at his balls.

Ray shifted restlessly against each point of contact between them as his iron control began to slip. Ben folded first one leg then the other back over Ray's body. A quick glance up at his lover's face showed the first signs of fear. Ray wet his lips nervously, his eyes pleading. Not without internal misgivings, Ben lowered his head to suck lightly on the tightly drawn up balls.

"Oh God!" Ray's body jerked uncontrollably. He dragged in a strangled breath. "Benny, please."

He almost gave in then, but the suspicion that he had already taken this too far to give up gave Ben the determination he needed to continue. "Soon, Ray. Please…" he almost choked on the word. "Please trust me, love." How many times had he said that now, knowing that he fully intended to betray that trust? He only hoped that Ray would be able to forgive him.

His tongue trailed a lazy path from the base of Ray's balls down to his anus and back again. It was becoming difficult for him to hold back now, and Ray was twitching with the effort of restraining himself. He probed the puckered ring of flesh, feeling it loosen reflexively at his touch. An almost despairing cry burst from Ray, followed by a weak keening sound that sent chills through him.

Whether it was enough or not, Ben knew he couldn't continue to torment Ray like this. He sat up, reaching for the condoms on the bedside table. Ray's eyes, showing real fear now, followed his every move. They closed as Ben eased the tip of his cock into the now relaxed anus and pressed home. A long, breathless moment later Ben lowered himself across Ray's body and took his face between trembling hands.

Moisture spiked the long dark lashes that remained firmly closed against him, and he bent his head to kiss it away. Ray's lips were clamped shut as though he could somehow contain the pressure building inside him. But there was nowhere to go but forwards, now, and Ben fully intended to ensure that they went on together.

He began to thrust with long slow strokes, quickly building to a driving rhythm that rocked both their bodies, forcing quiet little grunts out of him. Ray didn't make a sound. Each brush of his cock against Ray's prostate was reflected on the shuttered face below him, but that was the only sign that Ray was aware of anything at all. Ben knew, or thought he did, that compared to some of Ray's experiences with Laurier, this was rather tame, but he couldn't bring himself to use Ray the way Laurier had, no matter how good his intentions were. He would just have to hope that this would be enough.

It began to seem as thought Ray's unyielding control could withstand even this, until a quiet gasp escaped Ray's lips. His eyes opened reluctantly, and his face showed the thin edge of panic. From there his control rapidly disintegrated. His fists unclenched long enough for him to reach up and grab two handfuls of Ben's hair, forcing his head down onto Ray's shoulder. The wiry body jerked helplessly, bucking almost hard enough to send Ben flying. Only Ray's long legs wrapped around his hips held Ben in place. A long wailing cry shattered the silent intensity of the room.

Ben felt the wet heat of Ray's climax scalding his skin and the fierce contraction of his rectal muscles, sending his own senses reeling into overload. He held on desperately to his consciousness through a soul shattering orgasm, knowing that he had to be ready for whatever Ray would need when this was over. He didn't quite manage it. There were a few seconds of disintegration and then he roused to the sound of quiet, desolate sobs.

Hurriedly, Ben withdrew from Ray, and dealt with the spent condom, then took his unresisting lover into his arms. Ray made no attempt to escape and for even that small measure of trust, Ben was grateful. He rocked the slender body gently, stroking his hair and brushing kisses against Ray's temple. Eventually the sobs died away and they lay in silence.

Ben was sure that Ray was still awake, but he didn't speak. In retrospect, what he had done was terrifying. He'd been absolutely sure that Ray was mistaken about the danger, but after seeing Ray's reactions, he was no longer so confident. It seemed that Ray was all right, albeit badly shaken, but who knew what emotional damage had been done to an already fragile mind? What he had just done had not been so different from the rape Laurier had inflicted on Ray.

When he could bear the silence no longer, Ben gently touched Ray's arm. "Ray? Ray, please… can you talk to me?"

A quiet sigh was his only answer at first, then Ray stirred sluggishly in his arms. "Benny…"

"I'm here, love." Ben's arm tightened across Ray's back for a moment. "I'm sorry… I wanted to show you that it would be all right. I shouldn't have forced you to… to…" he broke off, biting his lip and fighting back tears of his own. "Are you… can you forgive me?"

Ray moaned softly, his body tensing, then pushed himself up to look at Ben. His eyes, reddened and watery, searched Ben's face. "You were right, Benny." He managed a weak smile. It faded rapidly and he sighed. "I can't… I'm too tired…" he collapsed back onto Ben's chest and nuzzled his shoulder wearily. "Later, huh? We'll talk later. Just hold me."

There was nothing in the world he'd rather do right now than hold his lover. Ben drew Ray closer still and closed his eyes with a sigh.

*

Something woke him, he wasn't sure what. In the next bed Renny was sleeping quietly, so it couldn't have been him. Ray pushed himself up onto one elbow and studied the sleeping face. The evening had gone better than he'd expected, but Renny had still been awkward and inclined to retreat whenever Ray's father had got a bit gruff. It wouldn't have surprised Ray if Renny had had nightmares, as he often did after a setback.

Renny's eyes opened. They stared at each other for a moment, then Ray smiled. "Hey, buddy. You want to come on over?"

A matching smile broke out on Renny's face and he sat up. Ray shifted over to make room for him. The motel had double beds so there was plenty of space. They settled down together with Renny's head on his shoulder.

"You okay?" Ray inhaled the fresh clean scent of soap and shampoo. "You know, we could leave early tomorrow if you want. I could say I got called back, or something."

"No, I'm all right, thank you, Ray." Renny's fingers stroked his ribs absently. "I'm just not used to your father's ways."

Ray laughed. "I think Mom told him off while we were at the park. You like her, don't you?"

"Oh yes, Ray. She reminds me…" Renny's breath caught suddenly and his fingers stilled for a moment. "I like her a lot."

Warning bells went off in his head, but Ray waited to see if Renny was going to continue. When he didn't, Ray ventured a cautious observation. "You don't talk much about your folks." In fact, he didn't remember Renny ever mentioning his parents.

"I haven't seen them in years, Ray." A quiet sigh followed the words. "They didn't take very well to having a gay son. I suppose being adopted made it easier for them to… to close me out of their lives."

Ray suppressed the urge to curse. He wasn't at all sure how his parents would react to that kind of news either and wasn't eager to find out, but that anyone could disown a guy like Renny just seemed so incredibly cruel to him. "It's their loss, buddy. I reckon you'd make a better son than most. Better than me anyway."

"Oh Ray, that's just not true. Your parents are very proud of you." Renny hugged him awkwardly. "And they have every right to be."

"Yeah, well let's not get into that mutual admiration thing, okay?" Ray grinned in the semi dark. "I'll get a swelled head."

"All right, Ray." Renny lifted his head to stare into Ray's face. "Are you all right now?"

A tiny laugh escaped him. Trust Renny to worry about his feelings. "Sure." He stroked the pale glimmer of cheek. "You okay too?"

Renny nodded and smiled happily. Then he lowered his head so they could kiss. Ray loved Renny's kisses and Renny loved to kiss and to touch. It was just the way he was made, that was all. After several long minutes, Ray repeated that fact to himself over and over in his head. It didn't stop his cock from swelling expectantly, but it did stop him from doing anything stupid, like trying to take it further.

Amazingly, it was Renny who did that, letting his fingers drift down Ray's side to his hip and then his thigh. He'd never done that since they'd all come back to Chicago and even though he'd come a long way in his recovery, Ray wasn't ready, yet, to take any chances with him.

So he lay still and waited, and eventually it happened. An electric brush of hesitant fingertips against his cock. A soft gasp from Renny. A brief withdrawal. He could almost feel Renny's hand hovering above his cock, then it was back. Ray bit his lip to stifle a groan.

"Is this all right, Ray?" Renny was watching him earnestly.

Ray lifted his head to steal another kiss. "Oh yeah. This is very all right, buddy."

Reassured, Renny lowered his head over Ray's chest and began to suck delicately at his nipple. His fingers traced the lengthening shaft, stroking gently. Ray shivered and ran his hand over the short sandy hair, wondering if Renny expected, or even wanted him to reciprocate. This wasn't like his normal lovemaking, more like the playing that had been all he'd wanted ever since the rape. Except that now he'd taken it to a whole new level. Even so, Ray was pretty sure that sex wasn't really on Renny's mind.

The slow, gentle fondling continued, moving from his cock to his balls and back again, and sending a delicious ache through Ray's body. It would have to end soon though, as his cock began to stiffen and become erect. He laid a hand over Renny's and lifted it gently away.

"I think we oughta stop now, buddy." Hearing the hoarseness in his voice, Ray swallowed to ease his throat's constriction. "We don't wanna get in too deep."

"But Ray, don't you want to…" Renny's face seemed to crumple in confusion. "I thought…"

"Hey…" he reached up to touch Renny's cheek. "I was just thinking of you, buddy. If you're okay with it, then it's fine with me." He just hoped that, if Renny started to freak out, he'd retain enough self-control to deal with it.

"Oh!" Renny's face cleared almost magically. "You take such good care of me Ray. I'm sorry to be such a trouble…"

Ray laid his fingers across Renny's mouth. "Don't you say another word, okay?"

"All right." A sunny smile revealed a gleam of teeth in the dimness. Renny settled back into his arms for a long kiss.

Now that he'd given his body the go ahead, so to speak, Ray's arousal seemed to increase exponentially with each touch. In seconds his cock had lifted eagerly into Renny's waiting fingers. Unconsciously, he began to rock his hips in counterpoint to the stroking of his cock. Renny's touch was still unnaturally gentle, but it didn't matter. All the sensation in his body seemed to pool in his groin for a moment and then flow outward again in a glorious rush. As their lips parted Ray gave a soft, satisfied groan.

They lay in silence for a while as the hammering in Ray's chest slowed to something near normal. Renny was lying in his arms again, his breathing as quiet as if they'd gone for a stroll in the park. And something moved against his thigh. He hugged Renny tightly. "You want me to take care of that, buddy?"

"Oh!" Renny sounded surprised. "Well… I don't know…"

Ray retreated hurriedly. "It's okay, if you don't want me to. I don't mind, ya know? It's just an offer, that's all." He slid free of Renny's loose embrace so he could look into the long face. Renny didn't seem all that upset.

"I just don't know… I don't think I can…" Renny stopped, looking helpless, and Ray's heart melted. He never could resist that look of adorable confusion.

"Well, I'm okay with that, if it don't bother you." Ray stroked his face, kissed him on the lips. And hoped. Suddenly he wanted very badly for Renny to trust him with this.

"I think… yes, I'd like that, Ray." Renny nodded decisively. "Please."

He sounded like a kid asking for a cookie. "Okay. I'm gonna turn the light on. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, Ray." Renny smiled trustingly at him.

Ray reached for the wall light, turning it on and setting the dimmer to its lowest setting. He just wanted to be sure he'd see it if Renny started having second thoughts.

He started slowly, leaning down to snatch little kisses while his fingers toyed with the short scattered hairs on Renny's chest. That seemed to go down pretty well and he brushed against the pale nipples, drawing a soft "oh!" from his lover. "That good, buddy?"

Renny nodded emphatically and smiled again.

Ray kissed one nipple, then the other, feeling the heart beneath it beating strongly against his lips. His hand slid down the solid abdominal muscles, across the flat belly and came to rest over Renny's swollen cock. Big as he was, it was nowhere near being erect but Ray had pretty much expected that. It still felt good to touch him there and judging by his reactions, Renny was enjoying it too.

Just take it easy and keep watch for any sign that Renny was getting worried, Ray told himself. Don't expect too much. And in fact it was surprisingly easy to drift, watching Renny's face respond to his caresses.

"Oh! Oh, Ray…" Renny's hand slid under the blanket and joined his. "That feels so good."

"Yeah…" Ray shifted the covers aside and looked at their hands moving, fingers linked, over the thick curve of Renny's cock lying against his thigh. "You're so beautiful, baby."

"Am I? Oh…" Renny's head fell back and his hand slid away to rest on his thigh. "Ray…"

There was nothing but pleasure in his face. Ray checked once more, then turned his attention to the beauty before him. Renny's cock was swollen almost to its fullest, but was showing no signs of hardening. It lay heavily against his thigh, shifting slightly as the muscles stirred. The cockhead was gleaming softly in the dim glow of the lamp and Ray carefully spread the few precious drops of precum over the entire surface.

He wondered how Renny would feel being kissed and sucked and decided not to risk it. This was already far more than he'd expected to happen and he didn't want to break into Renny's dazed pleasure to ask. His fingers slid down the shaft and cupped his balls for a moment, but when Renny moved restlessly, he went back to his stroking.

Gradually the big body relaxed against his and Renny sighed quietly. It was some time before Ray realised that his breathing had slowed into sleep. Even though it had been obvious for a while that Renny wasn't going to climax, Ray was still reluctant to stop. It had just felt so good to touch him like this again. And it had felt good to know that Renny trusted him with his body, after all that had happened to him. It was humbling. Frightening, when he thought too much about it.

Ray kissed Renny's parted lips and received a soft snore as his reward. He grinned and pulled the covers up over them both, then turned off the light. He lay down and snuggled up close to the warm bulk beside him, knowing that when he woke in the morning Renny would be lying in his arms with his head resting comfortably on Ray's shoulder.

*

"You did what?" Ray stared at his partner in bewildered fury. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" He turned away from Kowalski before he could physically attack the hormonally over-charged, fuck-anything-that-moves, sex-crazed deviant. "I shoulda known better than to let you have him to yourself. Can't you keep your dick in your pants for one fucking weekend?"

"Hey! He wanted it, okay?" Kowalski's voice rose sharply. "He started it, not me."

That did it. Ray had the smaller man shoved up against the wall, one hand drawn back to punch his lights out, before he was even aware of moving. "Sure. You would say that. Just like every fucking child molester in the world. Be original, at least."

Kowalski's face, pale until now, suddenly flushed bright red and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't you ever call me a child molester." Belatedly, his hands came up, bunched into fists. "I've taken a lot of shit from you because I don't wanna hurt Fraser or Renny, but I won't take that."

They stayed like that for a moment. Suddenly Ray was painfully aware that he'd crossed a line he never should have even been near. With an effort that hurt he released Kowalski and stepped away. "I'm sorry. I was outta line."

"Way outta line." Kowalski tugged his T-shirt back into a slightly less creased state. They eyed each other warily.

"I'm sorry." Saying the words again didn't seem to make it any better. Ray dropped onto the couch and put his head in his hands, feeling lousy.

It seemed like a long time before Kowalski joined him on the couch. "Look, I know you only said it 'cause you're worried about Renny… but he's okay. Honestly. I thought you'd be glad about it."

"He's not ready for sex." Ray looked up into Kowalski's delicate features and tried not to get angry all over again. "If you had any idea…"

"I've got an idea. You think this is the first time I've dealt with a rape victim?" Kowalski managed a weak smile. "You know, you don't have to be the one to do it all. Renny thought he was ready. And anyway, it wasn't sex. Just… touching. That's all. He's fine."

Ray's hands started to shake, and he got up and walked over to the window, ramming his fists into his pants pockets. For the first time he almost wished he could feel Armando, but the rage that coursed through him was all his own. He knew he was dead wrong, but that didn't stop him wanting to beat Kowalski senseless. So he stared out the window, clenched his teeth until his jaw ached, and fought for control.

"Are you okay?" It was Kowalski, too close behind him.

He stifled the urge to turn and plant a fist into that pretty face. "Just back off, okay? Leave me alone."

"A'right… I'll go make some coffee or somethin', okay? Just take it easy."

"Sure." If only he could.

*

Today had been a good day at the Consulate, one of the best days for a long time. He'd managed to get through the whole shift without annoying Inspector Thatcher, something of a rarity lately, as she hastily wrapped up her tenure there in preparation for her return to Ottawa and some top secret assignment she was refusing to discuss.

Even Benton had been more than usually mellow and it had been easy to keep him that way. They'd exchanged a few pleasantries, rather awkwardly because even now neither of them was accustomed to such things. Benton was making an effort to be friendlier lately and Renny couldn't help responding, even though his infatuation with his superior had faded to a quiet murmur. Still, it was nice to know that he was appreciated a little more these days.

Renny walked briskly, enjoying the cooler weather. It had taken some time for him to feel safe on the streets and Ray had driven him to and from the Consulate every day at first. Then when Benton had returned to Chicago they'd walked together. But tonight Benton had decided that he needed to finish some paperwork and did not require his assistance, and Renny was glad of the opportunity to stretch his legs in solitude.

His sense of wellbeing disappeared as soon as he entered the apartment. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Ray Kowalski was alone in the lounge sitting on the couch looking both worried and annoyed. Even though Ray Vecchio was nowhere in view, Renny had no doubt that he must somewhere near by; only Ray could have this effect on his partner.

"What's wrong, Ray?" Renny sat beside his lover.

Ray shrugged. "It's Vecchio." There was a long pause while Ray rubbed his face, then he continued. "Uh… I told him about the other night. About us. He went crazy."

"Where is he?" In spite of his concern for Ray, Renny's immediate worry had to be for Ray Vecchio. He'd hoped so much that this weekend alone with Fraser would have helped Ray. Yet it seemed that he was still as fragile as ever. "Where is he? Perhaps I should talk to him."

"I dunno…" Ray looked up at him doubtfully. "He's pretty out of it. Maybe you should leave him for a while."

"Ray, I have to see him. Is he in the bedroom?" That was where he usually went when things got too much for him. Getting a nod of confirmation from Ray, Renny smiled weakly and went in search of his other Ray.

He found Ray in the smaller bedroom, standing at the window with his hands in his pockets. The lines of his body betrayed a degree of disquiet that set off alarms in Renny's mind. He needed to do something, but what? Renny wished that he was better with words, but he wasn't; still, he had to try.

It was obvious that Ray had heard him come in, but the other man didn't turn, or acknowledge his presence in any way. Renny swallowed nervously, afraid not of Ray, but of his own inadequacy to help. They both stood in silence for a while until Ray finally turned to face him.

Ray's eyes travelled over him, lingering on his face at the last. "Are you okay?"

There was a great deal of stress in the quiet voice. Renny took a step closer. "Oh yes. Please don't be upset with Ray. He would never do anything to hurt me."

"I just…" Ray half turned away again as his voice broke. The tension he obviously felt was evident in his shoulders and arms. "I'm glad it's okay, all right? I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said what I did."

He wasn't about to ask what had been said. Renny went over to Ray and put his arms around him, letting him feel with his body that everything was all right. With a quiet sigh Ray relaxed a little against him and then put his arms lightly around Renny's waist. Renny lowered his head so their cheeks touched lightly.

"Ray, it wasn't your fault." The words came out of nowhere and yet the moment they left his mouth Renny knew they needed to be said. "None of it was your fault."

Ray didn't even pretend not to know what he meant. Another sigh fanned warm air against his face. "Renny, Laurier came to Chicago because of me. I knew he'd come. I shoulda warned you to stay away."

"You couldn't have done that without telling me why." He tightened his arms around Ray. "I understand that. I understand why you didn't want me to know about him. You did what you thought was best, Ray. You couldn't do any more than that."

"It wasn't enough!" The cry seemed to be torn out of him.

Renny shook his head. "It was all you could do. It wasn't your fault."

"Renny…" it sounded like Ray was crying. "You shouldn't have had to go through that. Not you."

"No one should, Ray." Renny kissed Ray's cheek gently. "If I had been more careful, you would never have had to rescue me. You would never have been raped, either."

Ray's head came up sharply. "That was not your fault!"

Renny shook his head silently. He wasn't going to argue about it; he could never win an argument with Ray anyway; but he held the gaze until he could no longer bear to see the pain in Ray's eyes.

Ray moved away then; and though it hurt more than he could ever have imagined, Renny let him go. Ray drifted back towards the window and stood staring out of it again. Finally, when it felt like something inside him might snap, Renny went over and once again put his arms around his lover from behind.

"What are we going to do, Renny?" Ray's voice was hoarse. "Sometimes it feels like it's never going to end."

Once again, words failed him. Renny lowered his head and nuzzled the nape of Ray's neck. It felt good, so he kissed the warm skin softly. Ray relaxed a fraction, angling his head to make it a little easier for him. This was comfortable ground for them both. Renny had always liked to touch and kiss, and Ray had never refused him, even in those first, terrible days after the rape.

The weather was still warm enough that Ray was wearing one of the silk shirts that suited him so well. Renny found his hands drifting over the sensuous surface, stopping occasionally to cradle the warm hard muscle beneath against his palm. Soon Ray moaned softly and turned to face him so their mouths could meet. They stood pressed together in the last warm rays of early evening sun and let it flow over them like honey.

Soon Ray moved restlessly in his arms, getting ready to withdraw, but Renny clasped him a little more firmly. "Don't go, Ray, please." His heart began to beat faster, his skin to prickle with excitement and nerves. "Don't go."

Ray gasped faintly, then stilled. "Renny, are you…" his voice trailed off and his eyes widened. He lifted a hand to stroke Renny's cheek. "What do you want?"

"It was always going to be you, Ray. It could never be anybody but you. Don't you know that?" Renny began to tremble. He hadn't expected it to be now, today; but now that it had happened, he was absolutely sure that it was right. "Please, Ray."

Ray stroked his cheek and it was all Renny could do to remain still, looking Ray in the face and trying to convey his certainty to the other man. Ray's green eyes were troubled, but after a moment he nodded. "If you're sure."

A rush of emotion almost overset his self-control, but he managed to blink back tears and smile radiantly. "I'm sure Ray."

Ray's eyes dropped to Renny's Sam Browne belt and lanyard and one corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "It's a damn miracle you don't get heat stroke in that outfit." His fingers were already working with skilled familiarity, unfastening the belt. Renny ducked his head to allow Ray to remove the lanyard.

Since it seemed to be what Ray wanted, Renny allowed his lover to unbutton the tunic and slide his hands over the regulation white T-shirt beneath. It always felt good to be touched by Ray, but for the first time since Ray had returned to Chicago, his touch was deliberately sensual. Far more so than Ray Kowalski's had been on Saturday night. He supposed it was intentional, giving him the chance to back out before things had gone too far. Except that he had no intention of backing out.

A gentle touch on his nipples sent a thrill of pleasure through Renny's body and he swayed towards Ray instinctively. The long hands steadied him, but Renny leaned forward and captured Ray's mouth in a deep, searching kiss. They were both breathless when it ended.

Ray nodded thoughtfully, as though he'd found the answer to whatever doubts had been in his mind. "Okay." He slid the tunic off Renny's shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

Ordinarily Renny would have protested such carelessness with his uniform, but now was not the time for that. He focussed all of his attention on Ray's sensual lips, watching as they curved into a tiny smile. The braces were slipped off his shoulders and his T-shirt pulled slowly out of his jodhpurs and over his head. Then Ray's long fingers slid over his skin leaving tremors in their wake.

He'd always thought that Ray had the most beautiful hands he'd ever seen. They felt so very good touching him, gentle and comforting. Even when he'd been sick with terror after one of his nightmares, those hands had held the power to soothe him and they didn't fail him now. Renny leaned into their caress and kissed Ray's lips, parting them with his tongue.

"Renny…" Ray's sigh sent a warm Ray-scented gust of breath into his mouth. Renny breathed it into his lungs, absorbing it into his body with a sense of surrender. "What do you want me to do?"

There wasn't the slightest doubt in his mind about that. "I want you to fuck me." He felt the truth of it flood through his body. His anus pulsed softly in anticipation.

Not much to his surprise, Ray drew back, his face troubled one more. "Are you sure about that?"

"Very sure, Ray." He kissed the slackened lips tenderly. "It's all right. I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't."

Ray's fingers brushed over his chest, ruffling the short hairs and Renny relaxed with a little sigh of pleasure. He'd expected to have an argument on his hands, but it seemed as though Ray had accepted his request. A tiny moan built in his chest and was released as a feather light caress teased his left nipple to hardness.

He was peripherally aware that Ray was still rather detached, watching his responses and waiting for any adverse reaction. He wasn't worried about that. The more Ray touched him, the more that touch sent delicate tendrils of pleasure creeping through his body. He began to slip the buttons free on Ray's shirt and when they were undone he slid his hands inside, rubbing his palms over the silky furriness between Ray's nipples.

The shirt was shrugged off and Ray came into Renny's arms. The scent of Ray's cologne, the feel of his skin was so sweetly familiar… comfortable and safe. Ray's tongue slipped into his mouth and he welcomed it eagerly. His hands brushed lightly over Ray's back down to his buttocks, drawing their hips together. Ray was becoming aroused. Renny felt the hardness of his erection with a thrill of pleasure.

He backed up towards the bed, drawing Ray with him then sat on the edge, guiding Ray to stand between his spread legs. Renny buried his face against Ray's stomach and heard his quiet groan. Then Ray's long fingers stroked gently through his hair. He kissed the flat belly, his tongue investigating the shallow bowl of Ray's navel, teasing the wiry hairs that grew around it.

"Mmn… nice, Renny." Ray's body almost vibrated with pleasure. He cupped one hand against Renny's cheek, holding him close. "You still okay?"

Instead of answering with words Renny fumbled for the zipper of Ray's pants. Ray made no move, either to stop him or to help. Renny's hands were trembling quite badly, but he managed to wrestle Ray's belt buckle free and loosen the pants so they could fall to the floor. Ray was wearing silk boxers. He almost always did, and Renny smiled at some of the memories that flashed into his head. A quick flick of his thumb loosed the button and the boxers dropped to join the pants around Ray's ankles.

Ray wasn't completely hard, but he was close. Heat radiated against Renny's cheek as he began kissing the slightly sweaty skin of Ray's belly. After a moment he brought his hand up to touch the velvety skin of the shaft, cradling it against his cheek, then turned his head a little and touched his lips to the surface. Ray shivered.

It was almost like a dream, one he hadn't had in far too long. Slowly he kissed his way to the slick cockhead and took it into his mouth without the slightest hesitation. The wonderful taste of Ray flooded his mouth and made his head reel. Renny sucked gently, taking the cock a little deeper.

Ray was absolutely still; even his hands did no more than rest lightly on Renny's shoulder and head. Small, steady tremors ran through his slender body and his breathing was now plainly audible.

"Renny… not too fast, huh?" He stepped back and kicked off his shoes, pants and underwear. The black silk socks followed rapidly after, then Ray knelt before his lover. "How about we even things up a bit?"

Renny had no objection to Ray unlacing and removing his boots, or removing his jodhpurs and shorts, for that matter. When it was done he slid back onto the bed and waited for Ray to stretch out alongside him. They lay in a loose embrace, kissing lazily and exchanging gentle caresses while Ray became more and more aroused, and Renny didn't. At least not physically aroused. It was still wonderful.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Ray leaned up on one elbow and stared down into Renny's face with a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

Renny smiled up at him. "I'm sure Ray. Don't worry about this." He made a slightly embarrassed gesture towards his only semi-erect cock. "It doesn't really matter, does it, if you're going to fuck me…"

"Yeah, but…" Ray reached for the pillows and piled them up, guiding Renny onto them. He leaned over and kissed him again, then lowered his head to suck a nipple to hardness.

Renny drew the close cropped head against his chest with a quiet, heartfelt moan. Ray leaned against him and began stroking again, this time heading inexorably downwards until Renny's swollen cock was resting in his hand.

It was the first time that Ray had touched him there and Renny groaned aloud. "Oh, Ray…"

"You like it?" Ray's eyes gleamed and he paused to reach for the lube that they kept in the top drawer. The coolness from the slippery gel faded almost immediately and then Ray began his stroking, gently squeezing and drawing the heavy length through his fingers, pulling away from Renny's groin.

He relaxed, allowing Ray's stroking to rock his hips slightly. The sucking on his nipples resumed and Renny let his head fall back and his eyes close in sensuous contentment. Slowly his cock began to stiffen. Ray shifted again, bending over Renny's groin and dropping tiny kisses on his belly and thighs, running his tongue lightly over the tightening balls. Renny managed to crack open one eyelid when he felt Ray draw his cock back up onto his belly and start a rhythmic stroking of the thick cum vein. His hips moved, pressing his cock against Ray's caressing hand.

At last it seemed that Ray was satisfied. He sat up, smiling, and held out a small square of foil. Renny took it, tearing it open without a word. Aware that this too was one of Ray's tests, he rolled the condom on to Ray's cock carefully.

He felt no hesitation, not the slightest tremor as he did it but, leaning back into the pillows as Ray eased himself into position between his parted thighs, Renny had a sudden, sickening memory of the brutal probing that had heralded each of Laurier's attacks. In retrospect, that had been worse than the beatings or the actual rapes… those seemingly endless moments when he knew, without any doubt, that he was about to be violated again. When he could do nothing but clench his teeth and wait for it all to be over.

His breath caught in his throat and for a second he froze. Ray sensed it immediately. His eyes lifted to Renny's face. "What's wrong?"

"Ray." He choked out his lover's name through the constriction in his throat. He began to shake and his view of Ray's face blurred suddenly, but he had no intention of stopping now. He reached out and pulled Ray closer. "Ray, please… quickly. Please."

After a brief hesitation he felt a gentle touch on his anus. He slid sideways off the pillows, trying to make it easier for Ray to enter him. Then the slender cock slid smoothly inside him and the worst was over. He shuddered and choked on a sob as scalding tears cascaded from the corners of his eyes.

"Baby, it's okay… it's okay…" it sounded as though Ray was crying too. Renny lifted a hand to Ray's cheek and it came away wet.

He moaned softly and drew Ray's head down for a long kiss, trying to convey what he was incapable of saying aloud… that he would be all right and that he wanted, more than anything in the world, for Ray to make love to him.

Ray groaned and began to move slowly inside him. At first it was all jumbled, meaningless impressions, but gradually sensation and emotion meshed together and Renny was aware that he was responding with pleasure. It was nothing like Laurier, nothing at all… he arched his back, moving with Ray's gentle thrusts, and brought his legs up to wrap around Ray's hips.

It had been so long… so very long, since he'd made love. His arousal rapidly escalated until Renny was overwhelmed by it. He clung desperately to Ray, trusting him to keep them both safe and when Ray's mouth claimed his own, he surrendered willingly.

Between their bodies Renny's cock twitched and thrashed as though it had a will of its own. Ray's thrusts deepened, became just a little more forceful. Renny moved with him, desperate to retain that fragile connection between Ray's cock and his body. He was beyond all sense, beyond speech, but Ray seemed to know what he needed. Ray's hands came down, framing his hips, lifting him to ride the iron length of his cock.

Inevitably, it was all over in minutes. The long months of emptiness and fear had taken too much of a toll and in spite of his efforts, Renny couldn't hold back the overwhelming tide of stimulation. Hot gouts of viscous fluid splashed his chest and belly, a seemingly endless gusher, while inside him Ray's cock pulsed in involuntary response. He cried out, his voice hoarse and ragged, then tumbled into a euphoric daze.

*

By the time Ben arrived home, Kowalski was all but gibbering with worry. He hardly seemed to notice Dief's greeting, but pounced on Ben with a desperate glint in his eyes.

Swallowing his instinctive nervous response, Ben put his Stetson carefully aside and took hold of his lover's wiry arms. "What's wrong, Ray?"

It all came tumbling out, mercifully with many a pause while Ray fought his agitation to find the words he needed. Eventually, Ben thought he understood the situation. "Where are they now?"

"In there." Ray's head jerked towards the second bedroom. "It's been hours."

"Indeed." The apartment was extremely dark by now and Ben had a pretty good idea of how long it would have taken Renfield to walk home. "Have you tried to…" he let the question tail off delicately.

Ray shook his head. "I figured best to leave them. I couldn't hear anything, but…"

"You're right, of course, but..." he drew the quivering body into his arms and strived for a soothing tone. "Perhaps we should check on them now."

"I dunno…" Ray leaned against him, obviously trying to relax. Ben kissed him.

It was enough to distract Ray for a few moments and then he sighed and leaned his head against Ben's shoulder. "I just… you know…"

"…feel responsible." Ben smiled.

"I guess." Ray's arms slid around his waist.

The sound of a door opening made them draw apart. Ray Vecchio appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a thin robe and looking exhausted. "Benny…"

A moment later Ben had his arms full of a completely different Ray. He could feel the weariness in every trembling muscle of Ray's body. "Are you all right?"

"How's Renny?" Ray Kowalski's voice interrupted, harsh with worry.

"He's fine." Ben felt Ray's body relax suddenly against his, as if saying the words had finally made them real. Ray turned slightly to look at his partner. "I was wrong, what I said before. You did the right thing, okay? I'm sorry."

The other man looked away and down at the floor. Ben thought he saw tears glinting in the pale eyes. "'S okay."

They stood in silence in the growing darkness for a moment. Ben started stroking Ray's back soothingly and felt him shiver. "Is Renfield awake, Ray?"

"Probably by now." A weak laugh shook his body. "Dief was sniffing at the door. That's what woke me… he got in when I opened the door."

"I'll go check on him." Ray Kowalski took a couple of steps then turned back. His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. "You think that'll be okay?"

"Yeah, that's good. I think he'll want to see you." If anything, Ray seemed to be leaning even more heavily against him and Ben's arms tightened instinctively. He lowered his head to nuzzle Ray's cheek.

"Are you all right, Ray?" Ben repeated his query.

Ray nodded slowly and sighed. "We made love, Benny. He let me… he wanted to…"

Ben was surprised by the depth of his relief and pleasure. "That's wonderful news. We can start to…" he stopped when he realised that Ray was crying quietly. "Ray?"

"I'm okay. It's just… it's taken so long. I thought it was never gonna happen." Ray wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I didn't mean to get all mushy."

Ben kissed him. "I think you can be forgiven this once." He saw Ray's grin with a lifting of his heart.

The light came on, startling them. "He's good. Dief's keeping him company."

Ray Kowalski looked like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It amazed Ben sometimes that both these men could be so devoted to his likeable but less than satisfactory subordinate. On rare occasions he even allowed himself to wonder if they saw some quality in Renfield Turnbull that he'd somehow missed.

At the moment, though, he was simply pleased to see that his two lovers were being drawn together by their common regard for Renfield. Even as he thought it, the man in his arms reached out a hand to Ray Kowalski and they joined together in a three-way hug. It went on for some time, with neither Ray making any move to end it. Then the two of them kissed, quite unselfconsciously.

It was curiously arousing to watch, even though the kiss seemed to be more for comfort than an expression of desire. Ben waited until it ended then kissed each man in turn. "I knew you'd hit it off."

They both grinned at the reminder of that dimly lit hotel room where all three of them had met for the first time. Ray Kowalski detached himself reluctantly from the group. "I told Renny I'd stay with him. You take it easy, okay?"

"Sure." Ray yawned hugely. "I might turn in too. How about you Benny?"

Visions of the three of them making love retreated unwillingly from Ben's mind. "I'd be delighted, Ray."

*

Ray Kowalski crouched in the shadows between a forklift and a pile of wooden crates listening to the voice of Armando Langoustini. It was a smooth, arrogant voice, nothing like his partner Ray Vecchio's voice. It brought back memories of a dimly lit hotel room, and a couple of goons, and a man with death in his eyes. He cursed under his breath, understanding for the first time why Vecchio was so scared of his alter ego.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be watching this place, the usual scut work the FBI gave them to keep them away from the real action, but something had gone badly wrong. For two days they'd sat in a cramped office overlooking this warehouse and watched people wander in and out. Nothing suspicious. Until today. Until an hour ago, actually, when the irregular trickle became a small but steady stream of men entering, but not leaving.

He'd lost track of how many times they'd tried to call their FBI contacts. They'd got nothing but voicemail. And no replies to the messages either. Finally they'd decided to go in and have a look. Just a look, that was all. Except that they'd hardly got inside when a bunch of men, far too well dressed for this place had passed by only a few yards ahead of them and the doors had clanged shut with a finality that told them both there'd be guards stationed by them. A quick check had confirmed their worst fears.

Ray had been busy calling Welsh on his cell phone when Vecchio had stood up, walked calmly out of their no-so-safe hiding place and identified himself to the business-suited men as Armando Langoustini.

So far it was working. Vecchio had spun a smooth enough story. It was almost the truth... the Feds watching them, waiting to take them out in a big messy drugs bust that would remove the best men in two prominent East Coast Families. And now here he was, Armando 'The Bookman' Langoustini, willing to bail them out. For a big fat fee.

"So how does it work?" That was Antonio Rinaldi, grey suited and loaded with heavy gold jewellery, a real Mafia stereotype. He sounded like he wasn't quite ready to play along just yet.

"Simple." Armando's voice was chillingly bland. "You sell to me. I'll guarantee there's no trouble. The Iguana family sits on the stash for six months, time enough to let things cool down. Then I sell to Kraus here. You sell your stuff, Kraus buys it, there's just a small delay in the process."

Kraus scowled. If anybody was going to cause trouble it would be him, Ray guessed. "And what do you get out of it?"

"Besides the pleasure of helping two colleagues?" Armando was coolly ironic. "Twenty percent." He waited out the grumbling. "Each."

"Like Hell. How do we even know you're Langoustini? Last I heard, he'd disappeared."

"I did." Ray could hear the smile in Armando's voice. It wasn't exactly heart warming. "It's been very useful, gentlemen. Now, are you in or not? You don't have much time to make up your minds. The Feds could arrive any minute."

Ray checked his watch. It had only been five minutes since he called Welsh. Not enough time for the hastily arranged backup to get here from the Twenty-Seventh Precinct. It would have taken even longer to convince another precinct to send support, but Ray cursed the fact that they were on the wrong side of town from the Twenty-Seventh. It looked like they wouldn't get here in time, and it felt to Ray like Armando was losing them. He was pretty sure Armando knew it too, even though his voice remained steady.

"How did you find out about this, anyway?" Rinaldi's voice was heavy with suspicion.

Armando shifted his position, moving around Rinaldi to stand between him and Ray's hiding place. "I had information. I got a man inside." His shoulders lifted in a faint, dismissive shrug. "You should have too."

Sweat prickled along Ray's spine. A man inside? He slid his glasses up his nose and tightened his grip on his gun. Something was going to happen, and soon.

"You're making this up." Kraus signalled to one of his men. "Did you think we'd just hand over ten million dollars worth of cocaine on your say so?"

"Your lack of faith hurts me gentlemen. How sure are you that federal agents won't be coming in here in the next couple of minutes, with warrants for your arrest?" Armando shifted again, circling, drawing Rinaldi and Kraus' eyes with him.

Ray knew then, with absolute certainty, what was going to happen next. As Armando, now unmistakably Ray Vecchio once more, reached for the ankle-holstered gun the goons had missed when they'd searched him, Ray flung a wrench across a stack of pallets to land noisily on their far side. Then he erupted from his hiding place, yelling.

He hit Vecchio first, knocking him to the floor. They rolled in opposite directions, firing before the others could decide whether Armando was part of the attack or a target, like themselves. That brief moment of confusion was what Ray had been counting on. Three of the goons were down, the rest, along with the two ringleaders were diving for cover. Ray hit the bottom of yet another stack of crates while Vecchio came up hard against a pile of greasy looking sacks. It wasn't much shelter, but it was better than nothing.

Vecchio wasn't shooting, but then Vecchio didn't have any spare ammunition for his backup gun. Ray tried to make his clip last. He only had one spare clip in his back pocket. They hadn't expected this, and hadn't been prepared for it. It might just get them killed.

Down to the last two bullets in his first clip, he glanced across at Vecchio and nodded. He got a grin in reply and then Vecchio was firing too as Ray emptied the clip. Ray rolled behind the crates hastily reloading while Vecchio took pot shots at anyone stupid enough to stick their nose out. That was when he remembered the guard by the door. Who would most certainly be heading in their direction right now. He needed to act fast.

Hotwiring a forklift wasn't so different from a car. The engine grated into life and lurched forward when he stamped on the accelerator. Ray swung it toward the crates where Kraus and his men had taken shelter. They were firing at him now, and he hunched down behind the wheel, flinching when the shots came too close. As he passed Vecchio he yelled a warning.

Vecchio's eyes widened and he turned to cover Ray's back. Ray cranked the machine up to its full five miles per hour and headed straight for where he'd last seen Kraus. There were shots coming from behind him now. He swore and held steady. It seemed to take forever before he crashed into the crates, sending one man flying. Ray threw himself on Kraus, gun to his head.

"Hold it, or your boss gets it." The firing stopped. Even Rinaldi and his men weren't willing to risk it. "Put the guns down, or I'll kill him."

"You won't do that, Fed. You wouldn't dare." Rinaldi's gun was pointing to the floor but he wasn't showing any sign of dropping it.

Ray grinned nastily. "Who says I'm a Fed?" He was high on adrenalin. It wasn't hard to pretend he was ready to shoot. He was. Almost. "Hey Boss, you okay?"

Vecchio strolled into view, brushing at a mark on his pants. "Do you know how much these cost?" He eyed the small group coldly. "Your man back there's dead. You got any good reason why you shouldn't all join him?"

"Hey! You don't..." The goon stopped as Rinaldi lifted his arm, with the gun still dangling from his fingers. "Quiet Marco. Mr Langoustini, I'm sure we can work this out."

"Put the guns down. All of you." Vecchio waited while they all obeyed. "Let him go, Ray."

"But..." Kraus was the only security they had.

Cold green eyes turned on him and Ray swallowed nervously. "Do it. And then get their guns."

He obeyed without another moment's hesitation. Then, with the guns in a tidy pile on the seat of the forklift, he exchanged a look with his partner and wondered how long they could hold eight men, even with the advantage of guns.

*

When Welsh rushed in with what seemed like half the Twenty-Seventh Precinct behind him, they were still discussing how the exchange of cocaine should take place. Ray Vecchio offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving to a god he'd almost forgotten he'd ever believed in and handed the entire crew over to their eager hands. He walked past Welsh with a quiet "Later, sir." and didn't stop walking until he'd got outside.

He was tired, and aching as though he'd been beaten all over, but a tiny flicker of elation warmed his gut. The temptation to get the Riv out of the parking garage and just drive away was almost overwhelming. But then the sudden eruption of Ray Kowalski from the doorway put paid to his chances of escape, or any hope of some time alone to pull himself together.

"We did it!" Kowalski seized him in a furious embrace, wiry arms clutching him almost painfully tight. "That was great, Vecchio. I knew..." A thump on the back rattled his teeth. "I just knew, ya know? It was like... I dunno, but it was great." Kowalski pushed him away a bit and grinned.

Ray couldn't help grinning back. "We're a team, Stanley."

"Yeah." Kowalski's grin faded suddenly. "A team." The hands on his shoulders tightened as Kowalski's eyes widened and then Ray was pulled back into an even fiercer embrace, and a kiss that threatened to suck his tonsils out.

It was insanity. The door was just behind them and someone could come out at any moment, but Ray kissed back as hungrily as he was being kissed. Only when a sound came from just inside the doorway did he regain enough sense to pull away. They both stepped back, panting. He was hard as a rock, and there was no mistaking the outline in Kowalski's jeans. Thank God Kowalski had his back to the doorway. Thank God his pants were loose

Luckily it was a very junior uniformed cop, so intent on his duty that he could spare them only a brief, admiring glance. Ray's eyes went back to Kowalski's face. As suddenly as it had come, the energy drained away leaving him feeling cold and exhausted. He backed away and dropped down to sit on a small box. He put his head in his hands.

"You okay, Vecchio?" Kowalski was looking down at him with a worried frown.

He patted the box beside him and shifted over to make room. "Yeah, it's just... being Armando takes it out of me." He smiled weakly. "But you know something? I wasn't Armando, not really. I was pretending. I knew I was pretending. It was like a mask I could put on and then take it off when it was over." An arm came around his shoulder and he leaned into it. "I'm free of him, Ray. I don't have to be afraid of him any more."

Kowalski didn't say a word and Ray wondered if he, or anybody else, would ever understand what that meant to him. But when he met the other man's gaze, he saw relief and happiness and that was enough. In spite of himself, in spite of the danger of somebody else coming through that door, Ray leaned in closer and kissed his partner.

This time it was quiet. They were both shaking with reaction, but the kiss was sweet and untroubled. He hadn't expected this kind of tenderness, though he'd seen it directed towards Renny often enough. Even Fraser on the odd occasion. But his relationship with Kowalski wasn't like that. Until now.

The sound of voices coming closer gave them more warning this time. They eased themselves apart slightly and Ray leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He felt a hand touch him lightly on the shoulder and then Kowalski stood and walked away.

*

"Ray, what happened to your..." Ben's voice trailed off into silence as his eyes went past Ray's shoulder to Ray Vecchio.

Ray grinned almost bouncing on his feet, knowing he was full of a manic energy that would drive himself and everyone else crazy, but unable to stop himself. He thought they'd come down off their adrenalin high at the Stationhouse, but that had just been a breather. On the drive home he and Vecchio had been as mad as a couple of teenagers. They were lucky they'd got home in one piece. He pounded Ben on the shoulder. "We cracked it, Frase... Rinaldi and Kraus and their goons and they'll all be singin' like birds in a coupla hours."

"...and Kowalski's taken over the job of wrecking my clothes. You can retire now Benny." Vecchio's voice was cheerfully sarcastic.

Ben got that blank, slightly bewildered look on his face that he usually reserved for Renny's weirdest behaviour, and the two of them started laughing.

Vecchio squirmed inside his grubby clothing. "I'm gonna take a shower before dinner."

"I'll join ya." Ray made to follow him but stopped as Ben caught his arm.

"Ray, what's happened? This behaviour is... well, it's rather..."

"Crazy?" Ray grinned. "It's okay Frase, we cracked the case. Arrested eight Mob guys while the Feds were off on the other side of Chicago, thinking they'd cut us out of the action." They'd discovered that about an hour after they got back to the Stationhouse and sometime soon he wouldn't feel quite so unconcerned about it, but right now he didn't give a damn. "So we're the heroes and they look like the horses' asses they are."

"I see." Fraser smiled his relief. "That was very well done, Ray. Congratulations."

"It was Vecchio, really. He was incredible." Just thinking about it made him feel hot again. He thought regretfully of the shower and what he and Vecchio could be doing in it right now, but he wanted to share this with somebody who would get it all. Not just the cop stuff, but the personal things too. "He pretended to be Langoustini... he was stringing them along like you wouldn't believe."

Ben's face became troubled, and Ray laughed. "It's okay Frase, I told ya. He just did it, had 'em all eating out of his hands after we took the guns off them and..."

"Guns, Ray?" The frown deepened.

"Oh yeah... well, they didn't exactly buy it at first. So we... ya know I just knew what he was gonna do, Frase, just like that time with you, at that poker game... so I kinda jumped them and we... well, it was okay. We had it under control pretty quick and Vecchio took out the guy who was sneaking up on us." Ray realised he was babbling and took a deep breath. "Anyway, Welsh arrived about then with backup and it was all over. And the best thing is…" He stopped as Fraser's eyes slid past his shoulder.

Renny was standing in the doorway, his face ashen. "Ray? What's happened?"

All his elation came crashing down around him. Ray hurried over and put his arms around Renny's trembling body. "Nothin'. It's okay buddy, Vecchio and I, we just made a bust… a really good bust, but it's over now. We're both fine."

It didn't make any difference. Renny's blue eyes were too bright, his face too pale. "Was it dangerous? Ray?"

He tried to shrug it off. "Nah, not really. We had it all under control."

"You could have both been killed." Renny obviously wasn't convinced. The tremors increased.

Across the room, Fraser cleared his throat. "I'm sure they took no unnecessary risks, Renfield. They were doing their duty, after all."

Ray cursed silently. Fraser was only trying to help, but that was probably the last thing Renny needed to hear. "Look, Renny, we…"

But Renny was pulling away from him. "I'm sorry. Benton's right of course. I shouldn't… I'd better get back to cooking dinner."

"Get Vecchio." Ray flung the words at Fraser and followed Renny into the kitchen. "You need any help?"

"No, I…" Renny turned to face him and his eyes widened. "You're, ah… a little…"

Ray glanced down at the greasy smears on his clothing and grinned. "I guess I'd better wash up first, huh? What's for dinner?" Anything to keep Renny talking until Vecchio got here.

"Grilled polenta…" Renny gestured vaguely towards the stove, forgetting the large kitchen knife in his hand. "And… and…"

"Hey." Ray fought the urge to duck. He took the knife from Renny's hand. "It doesn't matter, buddy. Just take it easy."

Fraser and Vecchio came in then, Vecchio in nothing but a towel and still dripping wet. Renny turned to him, as he always did, and was taken into a hard embrace. Ray could see him shaking. He moved away, going to stand by Fraser and lean into him for comfort. It always rattled him to see Renny upset. After a moment, they left the two of them alone together.

Dinner was subdued. Ray felt exhausted and Vecchio didn't look any better. The adrenalin rush was over and reaction had set in with a vengeance. Renny was completely silent unless one of them asked him a direct question and then barely managed to stammer out a response. Fraser was the only one of them acting even remotely normal. Not long after dinner they decided to make it an early night.

A hand on his arm stopped him from following Fraser and Renny to the bedroom. He turned to face his partner. "Look, I think…" Vecchio hesitated, searching for the words.

He knew what Vecchio was trying to say. They couldn't leave Renny alone tonight, not even with Fraser to keep him company, and what they wanted to do would be better done without an audience. "It's okay. Tonight's not a good night." He managed a slight smile. "Tomorrow, maybe."

"Yeah." Vecchio's eyes scanned his face and then they were kissing.

It took all of his self-control not to push it beyond what Vecchio was offering, and he knew Vecchio felt the same way. He'd known this would happen eventually, but he hadn't thought he would fall so damn hard. They drew apart after a moment and went into the bedroom where Renny and Fraser were already in bed. Ray tried not to watch too obviously when Vecchio started undressing, but something must have registered with the other two, because Renny ended up snuggling against a resigned looking Fraser, leaving the other half of the bed for him and Vecchio.

"G'night." He kissed Vecchio again and felt a gentle touch on his cheek.

Vecchio twisted around to turn off the bedside lamp. When he lay down again they kissed some more, adding a few hesitant caresses for good measure. It was pleasant and only mildly arousing, but they were both too tired to do much anyway. Ray wasn't even aware of drifting off to sleep.

*

The apartment was dark, and silent, when Ray Kowalski let himself in. Which meant the others were in bed and, from the lack of sound, fast asleep. Ray sighed. He hadn't intended to be so late, but the two fights he gone to watch at his old gym had taken longer than expected; and then he'd gone a couple of rounds with Joe. He rubbed the developing bruise on his jaw. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, but he'd felt too wired to just come home. Now he was facing having to sleep alone in the guestroom, or take the chance of waking the others.

Deciding in favour of the guestroom, Ray pointed himself, a little shakily, in the right direction. He'd only had a couple of beers, but wandering around in the dark didn't help his sense of balance any. Still, he made it to the bedroom without making any noise. But when he switched on the light, Ray had to choke back a curse. He'd forgotten about Renny's out of season spring cleaning binge.

The bed was covered in clothes taken out of the closet to be dry-cleaned; there were no curtains covering the windows, and beneath the tidy piles of clothing, the bed was stripped bare. It would take half an hour at least to put the room to rights, and Ray doubted he'd be able to do it without dropping or falling over something and probably waking the sleepers in the process.

There were some blankets still in the closet. Ray grabbed one and headed for the couch. Without turning on the light, Ray shucked his shoes and socks, then dropped his jeans and jacket, leaving him wearing the sleeveless top he'd worn for his brief workout and his shorts. He dropped onto the couch and pulled the blanket over himself with a sigh.

Five minutes later he rolled onto his side and pulled the edge of the blanket over his shoulder. Two minutes after that he twisted around to lie on his other side with his nose less than an inch away from the back of the couch. He punched the cushion a few times with no noticeable effect, then groaned and rolled onto his back again.

Trouble was, he was still too wired to sleep, and he didn't have to look far for the reason. In fact the reason was in the main bedroom, in bed with a couple of Canadians, and fast asleep. Dammit, they should have found a way to do it by now, but Renny had been on edge all week, the guestroom bore witness to that. And when Renny was on edge there was absolutely no way he and Vecchio could just take themselves off into the guestroom to fuck each other senseless and leave Renny to Fraser's care. Fraser just couldn't deal with Renny when he was in that state.

Ray stretched his arms out above his head and then crossed them over his forehead and stared up at the ceiling, even though it was too dark for him to see it. They should have found a way to do it, and then he wouldn't have got into this state. He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to get up and pace around the room. His legs felt cramped on the narrow couch and his gut ached. He rubbed it reflectively and felt a definite twitch in his groin. It looked like he was going to have to take care of it, if he wanted to get any sleep tonight.

"Damn you Vecchio." He muttered the curse under his breath and slid his hand inside his shorts. After a while he kicked his shorts off altogether and let them drop to the floor.

*

The bed always felt strangely deserted when he was in it alone. Not that it happened very often, but this morning he was alone. Ray Vecchio had a vague memory of his two lovers leaving the bed. Not so long ago, he thought, though he couldn't be certain. He didn't remember Kowalski coming in at all and if he had, surely he'd still be there. Like him, Kowalski was definitely not an early riser, especially not when it was the weekend and, for once, none of them had to go to work.

Ray sat up, still drowsy, gradually registering the quiet voices and the scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. He sighed and stretched and reached for his robe. But when he passed the lounge door, he discovered what had happened to Kowalski. He was asleep on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that came halfway up his chest. Ray grinned and detoured in Kowalski's direction.

His partner had a bad case of bed hair and needed a shave. There was a bruise on the left side of his jaw. Ray stared down at him with a mixture of frustrated lust and reluctant appreciation. He still wasn't sure why he felt so attracted to a pale, scrawny, pretty-boy like Kowalski, but he most definitely was. And that damn tattoo… who in his right mind would get a tattoo like that? Ray perched carefully on the edge of the couch and touched the tattoo lightly with one fingertip.

It woke Kowalski. The pale lashes fluttered and Kowalski stared up at him, bleary eyed and resentful. "Yeah?"

"And a good morning to you too, Stanley." He grinned at his partner, suddenly feeling unreasonably cheerful. Besides, he knew it would annoy Kowalski and it did. Kowalski glowered at him but didn't speak. "How late were you last night, anyway?"

Kowalski levered himself up a little so he was leaning back against the arm of the couch. "Not that late. You're letting them get you into bad habits. Going to bed early." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"You want me to help you with that?" Ray leaned forward a little.

Kowalski shook his head and winced. "Nah."

Their eyes met and held for a moment and Ray felt his heartbeat start to speed up. "So."

"Yeah." Kowalski didn't pretend not to understand. He glanced towards the kitchen door. They could both hear the other two moving around, preparing breakfast. "Now?"

"Why not?" Ray waited a moment, then leaned toward him. Their lips brushed then parted. Ray lifted his hand to pull Kowalski's head towards him and they kissed again.

It had taken a long time for them to reach this point. Sometimes Ray had thought it would never happen, but now that it had he intended to make the most of it. Slowly they moved closer and closer until their bodies were pressed together. Kowalski was half lying back against the couch, one arm around Ray's neck, the other awkwardly between their bodies, his fingers stroking Ray's chest where the robe gaped open.

It wasn't long before his restless fingers found a nipple and pinched it gently. Ray shivered as a jolt of pleasure reverberated from nipple to groin and back again in an endlessly repeating loop. His tongue slid inside Kowalski's mouth taking firm control; Kowalski seized it eagerly, accepting the claim and responding with his own. When he finally drew back to catch his breath, Ray's lips felt bruised and sore.

Kowalski was staring up at him, waiting to see what he'd do next. Giving him space to back away if he wanted to. But Ray didn't want to. He lowered his head to kiss and suck at the tender skin of Kowalski's throat and felt a soft groan rumble beneath the skin. The tie of his robe, already loose, was pulled free and Kowalski's hands continued their investigation. He shifted his position slightly, pressing the whole length of his body against his partner's; rubbing against him sensuously, feeling his erection matched by the one beneath him.

Gentle hands slid over his skull, ruffling the short hairs in a way that always brought a hungry reaction from him. Ray wondered briefly if Benny had ever given Kowalski any tips, but decided that was unlikely. He slid down a little and nuzzled Kowalski's shoulder, smelling a mixture of slightly stale sweat and cologne, a scent that was at once both intimate and masculine. His hands rubbed up and down Kowalski's skinny body, frustrated by the feel of cloth where he wanted to touch skin.

Finally Ray sat up, panting, and dragged the undershirt up over Kowalski's body, abandoning it once it cleared his nipples. He knew Kowalski's body well enough by now; with four men sharing a bathroom there wasn't any way he could have avoided knowing, but he'd never really looked at it with a lover's eyes. Skinny, yes, but beautiful… pale skin, small tight nipples ringed with a scattering of hair, all that Kowalski had on his chest. Ray's eyes slid down the centre line of Kowalski's body to his navel, and then below to a fine line of hair disappearing under the blanket.

Without really thinking about it, Ray found himself sprawled across Kowalski's chest, his lips clinging to the tight bud of one of those nipples as though his life depended on it. The salt taste of Kowalski's skin was better than any aphrodisiac. Kowalski let out a choked laugh loud enough to cause a sudden silence in the kitchen, but neither of them was likely to be fazed by that. If the other two hadn't figured it out by now, they weren't the Mounties everyone thought they were.

Kowalski squirmed under him and the blanket slipped, revealing a much larger expanse of bare skin to Ray's inquisitive fingers than he'd expected. Kowalski looked up at him deadpan and Ray grinned, then yanked the blanket down. The only thing Kowalski was wearing was the undershirt currently decorating his armpits. It was one Hell of a sight and Ray took a moment to appreciate it.

"Trouble sleeping, huh?" Ray kept his voice innocent.

Kowalski scowled. "Yeah, well I wasn't the meat in a Mountie sandwich last night, Vecchio."

"So whose fault is that? You wanted to go to the fight." Ray grinned again, determined to make the most out of this situation. Besides, Kowalski knew damn well that he and Fraser wouldn't be doing anything much when Renny was sharing the bed with them.

"You guys coulda come with." The pale eyes flashed in brief annoyance.

Or maybe it was time to back off. Ray shrugged. "Take Renny to a fight? Are you kidding?"

"Yeah, I guess…" Kowalski conceded the point reluctantly. "So, you gonna just sit there?"

"I am so glad you asked." Ray let his eyes wander up and down the slender body. Talking wasn't anywhere near as much fun as what he was about to do. He leaned forward, nipping and sucking at Kowalski's pale skin until it was dotted with small, reddened patches. Each nipple was sucked and tweaked and teased while Kowalski's body heaved beneath him. Then Kowalski grabbed his head and dragged him up for a lung-deflating kiss.

That was more than okay with Ray. Kowalski thought he liked it rough, but Ray knew better. He'd experienced the real thing and never wanted to see any of them get into that kind of stuff. What Kowalski was getting was the appearance of rough play, and hopefully he'd never find out the difference. He pulled back, gave his partner a slow, sensual smile and let his hand drift down over Kowalski's belly, through the soft, wiry pubic hair and along the moist, sensitive crease of his groin. The thick cock twitched enthusiastically.

They exchanged a glance; Ray's thoughtful and intent, Kowalski's impatient. Ray bought his hand up again, between Kowalski's thighs and took a firm grasp of his balls. He squeezed gently.

"Geez! Oh God…" Kowalski's reaction was all he'd hoped for.

The voices in the kitchen stopped once more and Ray heard a stifled giggle. Renny, no doubt. Ray smiled to himself and massaged the balls lightly as Kowalski groaned and squirmed beneath his straddling thighs. God, he was aching for this. He could feel the tremors in his thighs, but a year of controlling every reaction had brought him some advantages in the bedroom. Or on the couch. Ray knew he could make this last as long as he wanted, and could make sure Kowalski did too.

He stroked his fingers up and down Kowalski's cock, firm strokes that subdued the urge to thrust and climax. Kowalski shivered, but his hips settled back into the cushions, relaxing a little. Good. Ray shrugged the robe off his shoulders and lay down on top of him. He couldn't resist a small moan as their skin brushed together. For a while they were content to let their hands and their lips do all the communicating.

"Vecchio… oh, shit…" Kowalski broke free, taking Ray's face between his hands.

Ray laughed. "Poetic, Stanley. Very poetic." He slid down a little and began to suck again at nipples darkened to a deep pink by his earlier attentions.

A yelp of mingled pain and pleasure, and Kowalski's hands, encouraged him to travel lower. That seemed like a pretty good idea, so Ray cooperated willingly. Ignoring Kowalski's groans and outbursts, Ray made his way slowly down the slim body. He teased at the tender flesh, using feather light touches to arouse and carefully applied pressure to control the responses of his volatile lover.

He reached the flushed cock and decided, reluctantly, not to tease any longer. Kowalski was swearing to God and anyone in earshot that he was gonna die… he was just gonna fucking die…

"Can it Kowalski, nobody dies of a hard on." But he lowered his head and took it all in, down to the tangle of sweaty curls that were considerably darker than the hair on Kowalski's head. There was another strangled cry and then the sound of hard breathing as Kowalski fought to keep from thrusting up into his mouth.

Good. After a long pause, Ray lifted his head, sucking all the way to the tip and then plunged down again. Incoherent sounds of pleasure from above his head seemed to indicate he was doing it the way Kowalski liked it. There weren't many men who didn't like this. He caressed the bare belly affectionately.

"Oh God… dammitall…" Kowalski pushed his head away. He was panting, his belly heaving, his cock lifting with every breath. Ray waited. "Bedroom. Now. Get the stuff."

He knew exactly what Kowalski meant, and his balls tightened in response. Without a word he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled to the bedroom.

*

The orange juice was in a pitcher, ready for the table, and the coffee was well under way, although judging by the sounds coming from the lounge neither would be needed in any great hurry. The smaller pitcher was full of hot water to prepare it for the maple syrup, which was warming on top of the range. All that was needed now was for the bacon to be grilled and the pancakes to be cooked. Ben glanced over at Renfield, who was dithering, uncharacteristically in the kitchen, with a bowl of pancake batter.

He supposed he should have expected this. When Ray and Ray had told them about their successful bust, there had been an air about them of something more than just pleasure at catching a band of criminals. It was what he'd wanted to happen all along, and now that it had happened he was reacting… well, rather strangely. He was jealous. Perhaps jealous was too strong a word… no, he was jealous, though he wasn't sure exactly who he was jealous of. Could one be jealous of both men at the same time?

It didn't matter. The fact was that he was jealous and he was almost certain that Renfield knew it too. Renfield wasn't. His first reaction to the realisation that their lovers were making love on the couch had been unalloyed delight. A delight that had changed to caution as soon as he noticed that Ben's response was far less positive. They'd both concentrated on preparing breakfast then, restricting themselves to the necessary exchanges of information.

The pancake batter was in danger of being beaten to death. Ben was no great cook, but even he recognised that. Renfield looked up and met his eyes. "I think it's ready."

"I don't think they are." It came out a little too sharply and Ben looked away briefly, towards the lounge. "I'm sorry. I don't know…" his voice trailed off at the expression on Renfield's face. "That is, I don't understand why I've reacted like this. I wanted them to… to get on."

Renfield smiled a little. "You feel threatened, Benton. It's only natural. You love them both, and a part of you is afraid that if they love each other, they may love you less."

"But that's…" Ben frowned. He hadn't expected Renfield to understand his tangled emotions when he couldn't make sense of them himself. "I didn't feel that way when you…"

"That was different." Renfield's smile turned wry. "You never saw me as a threat. But, of course it doesn't work that way, in any case."

He didn't know what to say to that. It was true that he'd never seen Renfield as a threat; the very idea of it was ridiculous, but he wasn't laughing. Nor was Renfield, in fact he was looking almost wistful. Neither of them was paying any attention to the enthusiastic sounds coming from the lounge any more.

Renfield glanced down at the bowl of batter and toyed with the edge for a moment. Then his eyes lifted again. "It never occurred to you that Ray could love me enough to harm your relationship with him. You were right. Not because I don't matter, but because Ray could never love you less no matter how many lovers he had. Just as you or I would never love him less."

Ben could hear the hurt in Renfield's voice and it gave him pause. How long had Renfield carried this knowledge, never allowing it to show until now? He must have realised it almost from the start. But Ben wasn't ready yet to deal with that. "And Ray Kowalski?"

Renfield smiled. "Ray doesn't love me. We're good friends, and that's enough. I think you know that"

He did know that. He'd been procrastinating, trying to assimilate the knowledge Renfield had just handed him. In the last few months he'd begun to realise that he'd misjudged Renfield, but he hadn't known until a few minutes ago how badly he'd done so. Or how much Renfield had been aware of how little he'd thought of the younger man. There weren't many times in his life that he had that sinking feeling of having failed badly, but he felt it now.

"I'm sorry. You're right, I didn't…" he searched for a gentler way to phrase what he had to say, but he owed Renfield the truth. "I didn't respect you enough to think of you as a threat with Ray. Perhaps I should have." He tried to smile.

The sandy head shook slowly. "I wouldn't have wanted that, Benton."

"No." Ben looked at the younger man, taking in his withdrawn face, his downcast eyes. In spite of his unkind behaviour towards Renfield, he had never been less than completely loyal, or less than willing to help in any way he could, both professionally and personally. Ben remembered with painful clarity some of his behaviour towards Renfield, the contempt he hadn't been able, or thought necessary to hide. Because Renfield had never reacted to it, Ben had thought he hadn't noticed it. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

There was no answer and when he looked up again, Renfield had turned away and was toying with the edge of the bowl again. Obviously he thought the conversation was over, but Ben couldn't bring himself to leave it like that. He had made the mistake; he had hurt someone who had not deserved to be hurt. And he admitted to himself that his assumption that Renfield was unworthy of his love had been wrong. At the moment it wasn't Renfield who seemed unworthy, but himself.

It took only two steps to reach his side. Ben just had time to see his startled glance and then he was drawing him into a gentle embrace, still unsure of what he intended to do, but certain that he had to do something. From a distance of a few inches they stared at each other. Renfield wore a startled expression that might have been comical at any other time. Ben noticed, as he had often before (he prided himself on his skills of observation, after all), how intensely blue Renfield's eyes were. Now it was more that a simple observation. He felt himself flushing slightly, almost embarrassed by his reaction.

Renfield smiled shyly, breaking the silent exchange by lowering his gaze, and Ben found he was leaning toward him without having made any conscious decision to do so. Their lips brushed lightly, then Ben pressed closer. The kiss was sweet with uncertainties and hesitations, like the first kiss of new lovers, redefining their relationship. Renfield drew back after a moment, but Ben, committed now, closed his mouth over Renfield's once more.

They'd kissed before, even in this very kitchen, but never with such intimacy or openness. It was almost frightening to do so now; a small part of Ben was telling him that he couldn't possibly do this with Renfield of all people… another part wanted it; wanted to know just how far this relationship could go if he were only willing to allow it. Renfield, he knew, would set no boundaries, would accept as much or as little love as Ben was prepared to offer him, and return it in as great a measure as Ben would allow.

Ben raised his hand to touch the flat plane of Renfield's cheek, feeling the heat surge suddenly against his fingers. Renfield's hand was resting comfortably in the small of his back, holding him close as they kissed. The thin, sensitive lips parted before his tongue, accepting his explorations with only a hint of restraint. Ben suspected he was waiting for the inevitable rebuff. This time, he swore to himself, it wasn't going to happen.

Not for the first time, Ben was aware of needing to turn his face upward to kiss him, a discomforting sensation, since he was used to his lovers being the same height as himself. But it wasn't difficult to distract himself from such thoughts as the exchange continued; a slow, sensuous advance and retreat of exploring tongues, and the soft flutter of warm breath infiltrating his mouth as Renfield sighed. The outside world seemed to fade into nothingness.

A low moan brought Ben out of his daze to find that somehow he'd managed to get a hand inside Renfield's T-shirt. That hand was stroking, over and over, the soft, prickling hairs on the broad chest with a gentle insistence. Ben bowed his head a little, enough to kiss the vein throbbing visibly beneath the skin of Renfield's throat, while his fingers sought a nipple to tease.

"Ohhh…" Renfield's hand came up to cradle Ben's head, and his fingers slid deep into his hair. Pressed close together as they were, there was no hiding his arousal, or Ben's. Their bodies swayed together, rubbing gently, sensuously, and Renfield's other hand fumbled with the back of Ben's T-shirt, seeking skin contact in his turn.

They parted long enough to dispose of the T-shirts, dropping them with uncharacteristic lack of care on the floor then closed together again. With their hands free to roam, they both set about exploring the other. They'd been occasional lovers for nearly two years now, but never shared such intimacy as this. Always, except for that one time, there had been Ray… either, or lately, both Rays, to make the focus of their lovemaking, rather than each other. This was unimaginably different.

"Fuuuck! God, Vecchio…" Ray's voice broke their spell and Renfield choked with laughter. The sounds from the lounge had been getting steadily louder and seemed to be reaching a crescendo, but then they died away a little. Obviously it wasn't going to be over for quite a while.

Ben smiled. "Perhaps we should go in the bedroom, Renfield."

Renfield's face lit up like a beacon.

*

It seemed a long time before Vecchio came back through the doorway and Ray Kowalski was squirming with the urge to take his cock into his hands and just get on with it. He didn't, because there were some things worth waiting for; but nobody had ever said patience was one of his strong points.

Finally, Vecchio strolled across the lounge, his bathrobe hanging open and framing a darkly flushed erection that swayed with each step. As enjoyable as the sight was, Ray's impatience intensified. "Get a move on, will ya?"

Vecchio grinned at him and deposited the lube and a handful of condoms on the floor beside the couch. "Patience, Stanley." He dropped onto the couch, straddling Ray's legs.

It ought to annoy him that Vecchio called him by his deeply unloved first name, but it didn't. Vecchio was the only person to call him that, and didn't do it very often, so Ray figured he could deal with it. Besides, he kinda liked the teasing way that Vecchio said it.

He reached up and grabbed the edges of Vecchio's robe, dragging him down for a long, hungry kiss. When Vecchio showed no sign of trying to escape, Ray slid the silky cloth off his shoulders and watched in satisfaction as the robe slithered to the floor. Their bodies pressed together and for the first time, Ray was aware of the effort Vecchio was making to hold back. He grinned against the eager mouth; it was about time.

Vecchio pulled back, breathing hard. "What do you want, Stanley?"

"Fuck me." The words came out as a harsh growl, startling both of them. He reached down between their bodies and stroked the hard shaft. His fingers curled around it instinctively and started pumping. Now that he knew exactly what he wanted, Ray relaxed a little. "Yeah. Fuck me."

With a shaken gasp, Vecchio grabbed at Ray's hand, stilling the movement. "No. Take it easy, willya?"

"Sure thing." Ray leaned up and kissed Vecchio again. "It's okay, Vecchio. It's gonna be okay."

The lean body above his eased back down onto him and Ray shifted, wrapping his legs around Vecchio's hips. His body pushed up against Vecchio's groin and he smiled. "Ya like this?"

Vecchio groaned softly, his eyes going hazy. "Not bad…" Ray rubbed against him slowly and he moaned. "All right… all right, it's great."

The shorn head drooped against his shoulder and Ray felt the brush of warm lips against his throat. Vecchio's hips moved in a sensuous rhythm against his own as he ran his hands down the long curve of the slim back. They were both shaking with arousal and it took a huge effort for Ray to push his lover away.

"Come on, Ray…" he reached down and found a foil wrapped condom with his trembling fingers. "Let's get on with it."

The green eyes glazed over slightly as Ray rolled the condom over Vecchio's cock. The hard length thrust impatiently into his hands and his groin throbbed in involuntary response. "Oh fuck…" he spread the slick gel hurriedly over the condom and used his shaky grip to pull Vecchio down between his legs.

A shaky laugh sent a gust of hot breath across his lips. "Geez, Kowalski… slow down."

"Fuck that." Ray shifted his grip to Vecchio's butt, arching up to thrust himself onto his cock. Their bodies bumped together awkwardly, both of them too eager to take care. "Shit. Hang on."

With a cooperative effort they managed it, and Ray's head dropped back against the couch with a groan. Nothing ever beat the incredible intimacy of fucking, and it was different with each of his lovers. Even though his body wanted to throw itself mindlessly against Vecchio's to seek satisfaction at any cost, Ray forced himself to remain still. He needed time to deal with the emotions roused by the feeling of Vecchio's cock inside him.

"Ray…" Vecchio's voice was almost inaudible and his body shook helplessly. He moved his hips slowly, sliding his cock deeper into Ray's body.

Ray sighed. "Oh yeeaaaah…" the pounding of his heart was matched by his lover's. Neither of them could hold on much longer and as the pressure grew Ray gave way before it, taking Vecchio with him.

The furious, almost desperate thrusts rocked the whole couch. Ray dug his fingers into Vecchio's shoulders, tightened his legs around his hips, and gave back as good as he got. It was an insane scramble after pleasure that set his heart pounding so hard he could hardly hear his own cries, or Vecchio's harsh sobs.

Everything about Vecchio was so different from Fraser and Renny… the narrow hips, the thick tangle of hair at Vecchio's chest and groin that tickled his skin, the wiry arms that clutched him so fiercely. More than that, the combination of pride, vulnerability and hard won strength made Vecchio's surrender all the more precious to him. How could he resist all that, wrapped as it was in the sensual, passionate packaging that was Ray Vecchio?

And, to put it simply, Vecchio was just plain hot. Ray grinned to himself remembering their first few meetings and the sparks that had flown between them, more aggressive than amorous, but the seeds had been there, even though he'd refused to admit it at the time.

A long shudder ran through him and through Vecchio, warning them both that their bodies were reaching breaking point. Even the lube could no longer ease the delicious friction of Vecchio's fierce thrusts. They were growing wilder and less coordinated with each passing second.

It was difficult to focus his mind enough to breathe, let alone speak, but somehow he managed it. "Vecchio… it's okay…" he stroked the sweaty nape of his lover's neck. "Trust me. Just let go, all right?"

There was no answer, but the shudders grew stronger. Ray held on, waiting for the inevitable, his body so incredibly wired that he felt like he might explode. It occurred to him then that this might be what Vecchio needed… for him to lead the way. Trusting his own judgement in situations like this didn't come naturally to Ray, but something had to give and it might as well be him.

That decision was all it took. Heat exploded in his groin and sent fiery tendrils into his brain. He was only dimly aware of Vecchio's cry and the savage thrusts that heralded his lover's climax. Together they rode out the storm, bodies sliding slickly together, lubricated by their own sweat. Ray was barely aware of the small extra heat of his ejaculation or the final savage tremors that shook Vecchio's body.

The silence that followed was almost as devastating as the fury of their lovemaking had been. Ray's eyes were blinded by tears and sweat, his throat ached and his body was worn out. Vecchio lay like a dead weight on top of him with only the hammering of his heart and the harsh labouring of his lungs to show he was still alive. He stroked his fingers across the wet skin of Vecchio's shoulder and moaned his exhaustion.

"Kowalski?" Vecchio's voice was faint.

It took a huge effort to dredge up any kind of response. "Yeah?"

"You…" Vecchio gasped and shook with weak laughter. "You wanna do this again some time?"

*

Kissing Benton Fraser always felt to him a little like he was kissing God. It would no doubt shock many people; his adoptive parents in particular would think it heretical, without a doubt, but Renny had long ago accepted his hero worship of his superior officer and learned to live with it. Falling in love with not one, but both of Benton's lovers hadn't helped much. No more than an intimate acquaintance with the object of his adoration had changed a thing. He was now exceedingly familiar with Benton's very human failings, pride probably being the worst, but that had made not the slightest difference either. So he melted into the warm and welcoming embrace and kissed his god with sensuous abandon.

For a long while that was all they did, lying naked and entwined on the bed they usually shared with their lovers, with a kind of innocent intimacy. He suspected that Benton was holding back, uncertain of how he would react to more overtly sexual behaviour. It would be difficult, and extremely embarrassing, for Renny to tell him that he was all right now, and that Benton didn't need to worry about him. Becoming tongue-tied, as he undoubtedly would, would not improve the situation at all, so he could just demonstrate the fact and then they could both take things from there.

He gently disengaged himself from the kiss and lowered his head to suck at one of Benton's pale nipples. He'd had plenty of opportunity, hovering on the sidelines, to observe. He knew, for instance, that Benton loved to have his nipples sucked almost as much as he loved to suck… well, just about anything. Fingers, nipples, cocks. Anything he could fit in his mouth. A definite oral fixation, there. No doubt Benton would take great pleasure in indulging it on Renny's body at a later stage. For now, he simply squirmed with pleasure under Renny's determined assault on his senses.

Making love with Benton, if you could even call it that, in the kitchen all those months ago had never felt like this. Then, he had been aware of Benton's distance from him even as they touched each other so intimately. Today the barriers had come down, just a little, but enough that for the first time since he'd met, and made a disastrous first impression on his new colleague, Renny allowed himself to hope that there might be some kind of a chance for him.

As he made his way down the alabaster pale body, pausing every so often when he found a particularly sensitive spot, Renny twisted on the bed so that by the time he reached Benton's cock, he had completely reversed his position. He buried his face against soft sweaty curls of pubic hair and hoped that Benton would take the hint.

A hesitant touch on his cock sent a tiny shiver of pleasure through him and Renny moaned, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than was really necessary, but he wanted to be sure that the message was received loud and clear. It was. His cock was grasped more firmly and stroked from heavy somnolence to hard arousal. It took an amazingly short amount of time. Renny decided to stop worrying about how Benton was going to behave and simply enjoy himself. In spite of Benton's apparent volte-face, he wasn't yet prepared to count on anything past this one opportunity.

The thick pale cock stirred invitingly against his cheek as he kissed the silky skin of Benton's thighs and belly. He'd admired the beauty of it from the first time he'd seen it, when Ray had brought his disapproving lover to share this very bed with them. His fingers traced the length of it from base to tip, teasing at the slightly retracted foreskin and the flushed circle of moist cockhead peeking from beneath it. It really was rather delightful.

He closed his fist around the hardening shaft and pumped experimentally. The skin was looser than on a circumcised cock and moved more freely, retracting the foreskin even further as he stroked down and releasing it on the up strokes. After a couple of times, Renny leaned forward to lick away the moisture forming in the slit with a delicate brush of his tongue.

A gasp and a small shudder indicated Benton's approval and Renny gave in to his own brand of oral fixation, which mostly centred around cocks. He took the whole length of it into his mouth, relaxing his throat muscles instinctively to accommodate it and began to suck in a strong, pulsing rhythm. His own cock was being subjected to similar treatment, and for a while there was no sound in the room apart from contented sucking noises and the occasional muffled moan.

However Renny had some time ago already decided on what he should do if he ever got this chance and, as much as he enjoyed oral sex, this wasn't the way he wanted it to end. Gradually he withdrew, taking less and less of the thick cock into his mouth with each downward plunge. Benton, too, was easing back, taking his cue from Renny. With a quick twist Renny knelt between Benton's parted legs and stared into sensuous, heavy lidded slate blue eyes.

There could be no doubt what he was silently offering and Renny preferred to leave it unspoken. Benton smiled lazily, so unlike his cool calm Mountie persona that it was difficult to reconcile the two. But all that mattered right now was the implicit acceptance in that sensual gaze. Renny reached for the drawer and the condoms it contained.

The carton was empty. For a moment Renny came close to panic. Of course it wasn't strictly necessary for him to penetrate Benton, or he could withdraw before ejaculating, but either option would ruin the scenario he had so lovingly built up over the years. Then he realised that Ray, no doubt in some haste, had scattered the small foil packets all over the drawer. He hastily picked a couple of them out and then hunted for the lube. Surely there was a spare tube of it somewhere. But this time his luck ran out.

"Renfield? What's the matter?" Benton lifted himself onto one elbow.

He sighed dejectedly. "I'm afraid here's no lubricant. Ray must have taken it."

There was a brief pause as they considered the situation. Not for anything would Renny be willing to interrupt the two of them. He'd seen the changes in them this last week and knew that his own behaviour had prevented them from consummating their new relationship. He would not compound that now, not even to make his own dreams come true.

"I'm sure we can manage without." A gentle touch in his arm drew his attention away from the drawer. "The condoms are the lubricated variety, aren't they?"

"Yes, but…"

Benton pulled him down. "Then don't worry about it."

He kissed Benton again, slowly and with great care, then sat up. He rolled the condom over his cock with steady fingers while Benton watched. He was good at making love. All his lovers had told him so, and shown by their pleasure that it was true, not just kind words. It gave him a confidence in the bedroom that he seldom felt anywhere else. Now, of all times, he needed that confidence as Benton drew his legs up accommodatingly and he began a gentle investigation of the tight ring of muscle.

Benton was breathing in shallow panting gasps, using the technique to relax his whole body and Renny positioned the tip of his cock carefully against his anus, pressing into him. It took a while. Benton's cock deflated slightly as the head of Renny's cock finally slipped inside the firm grip of his body. He stroked the heavy cock tenderly, coaxing it slowly back to fullness. Benton was absolutely still, his eyes closed, his chest barely stirring.

Perhaps this was simply too uncomfortable for him. "Do you want me to stop, Benton?"

A tiny frown appeared between Benton's eyebrows and a bead of sweat trickled slowly down one cheek. "No. Don't stop." His tongue darted out to caress his lower lip. His eyes opened a fraction. "Please."

At last Renny had managed to restore Benton's erection to its full glory. He stared down at the gleaming wet cockhead, almost completely exposed now, and calculated… he thought he could do it. He hunched his back, almost doubling over and managed to stroke his tongue over its moist surface, ignoring a shaken gasp from his lover. Pleased with himself and with Benton's reaction, he swirled his tongue over the sensitive cockhead and sucked gently. This time Benton's hips bucked, almost hard enough to dislodge him completely. Renny straightened, stroking the quivering muscles of Benton's belly until the other man settled.

It was time to stop playing, Renny decided. He pressed deeper into Benton's body, more easily now, until his cock was completely sheathed in hot flesh. He withdrew a little then slid back again in slow, gentle thrusts, until he was satisfied that he wasn't going to cause any pain, then he lowered himself over his lover, covering him with his body.

Benton smiled, touching his face with trembling fingertips. Being a good two inches taller than Benton made it easy for them to kiss, and for long, ecstatic minutes that was all they needed to do, while their hips moved in slow harmony. But as their breathing grew more and more ragged, and their bodies' demands escalated, Renny began to thrust deeper, harder, and intimacy gave way to heart pounding lust.

Nothing mattered now to him, except the satisfaction of that primitive instinct to climax. Their bodies strained towards that goal, slick with sweat and the oozing pre-cum from Benton's cock, trapped between their bodies.

"…Renfield. Renny, stop." Benton's strained voice broke into his consciousness at last and he froze. What had he done? He lifted his head and stared into Benton's face, fearing what he might see there.

But Benton was smiling shakily. "It's all right. I'd just like to…"

He was already withdrawing. Instead of stopping him, Benton simply slid out from under him and knelt upright, facing the wall, his hands braced against the headboard. He looked back over his shoulder at Renny with an open invitation in his eyes. With a shuddering sigh of relief, Renny knelt behind him and entered him again, wrapping one arm around his waist and stretching out the other to grasp the headboard.

Damp curls clung to the back of Benton's neck. Renny buried his face against it, breathing in the scent of his sweat and soap from his morning wash. His hips took up their interrupted rhythm, starting slowly and building to an even greater level of urgency than before. His hand slid down Benton's belly and took his cock in a firm hold. Benton made an inarticulate sound deep in his chest and thrust furiously into his grasp.

This was even better than he could have imagined. Renny gave himself up to the demands of his body, aware of nothing but the slippery feel of Benton's skin against his, Benton's cock sliding easily through the circle of his fingers. His cock pulsed, in warning at first and then purposefully as he climaxed. It was echoed in Benton's cock and in the sudden fierce clutch of muscles around Renny's cock, drawing still more convulsive tremors from him. He bit his lip and rode it out in silence, struggling just to breathe while Benton cried out hoarsely.

They were still upright. Renny recognised that fact with some inward surprise. He was leaning limply against Benton's back, too exhausted to move, except for his hand, still stroking Benton's rapidly softening cock. But he would have to move soon, as his cock softened inside Benton's body. He took a deep breath and managed to straighten up. They separated easily and he slid the condom off his cock and tied it off neatly, tossing it into the small trashcan they kept beside the bed.

Benton was lying sprawled on his back, watching him. Renny dropped down next to him, still breathless, and was taken into a gentle embrace. Words seemed to be particularly pointless at this stage; they exchanged a long, satisfied kiss and lay in contented silence.

Renny's body was heavy with exhaustion; enough so that he was drifting on the verge of sleep when he felt a light caress on his hair. With an effort he levered his eyes open and looked into Benton's face. He got a rather strange look in response and wondered, with a sinking sensation, what he'd done to cause it.

Benton smiled at him, easing his worst fears. "That was wonderful, Renfield. Thank you."

"Oh…" he blushed painfully. "No. Thank you." How pathetically inadequate… he watched as Benton's lips parted and wondered miserably if they were going to end up thanking each other half a dozen times each before embarrassment forced them to stop.

A gleam of humour in Benton's eyes made Renny realise that he was probably thinking the same thing. He giggled with nervous reaction and then wished he hadn't. Benton's smile broadened and they kissed again. When the kiss ended he settled with his head on Benton's shoulder, instinctively choosing his favourite position before his befuddled mind had a chance to realise that Benton might not like such an assumption of intimacy. He waited for some kind of a sign, but his lover remained relaxed, and even began stroking his hair again.

"Renfield…" Benton hesitated. "May I call you Renny?"

His heart began to beat faster. "Oh yes. Of course. Ben." He tried the name cautiously. It felt rather wonderful to say it.

The fingers stroking his hair stilled for a moment then resumed their movement. "I'm sorry I've hurt you in the past. I was wrong about you. I realise that now."

"Oh, but…" he wanted to deny it, but there was no point. Benton, Ben… had hurt him and they both knew it. "It wasn't all your fault. Really. I wanted to impress you so much, and it just made me look stupid, but I couldn't help myself." He slid his arm around Ben's waist and smiled just to think he could call him that even in his thoughts. "We can forget about that now, can't we?"

A hand slid over his arm, caressingly. "Yes. Of course we can. It'll be a new beginning for us. For all of us."

"Mmm." He sighed and closed his eyes as the gentle stroking continued, surrendering at last to the drowsiness that was claiming him.

*

Kowalski was pulling on his shorts. It was a sight that Ray viewed with mingled pleasure and regret. Pleasure because the sight of that pale scrawny ass bending toward him was strangely attractive. Regret because the glimpse of cock between his legs was a reminder of what was being covered up. He sighed and pulled his robe firmly around his body.

He wondered how late it was. There was no sound no from the kitchen, although the scent of coffee still drifted in the air. Ray went to check it out.

The kitchen was deserted. There was a pitcher of orange juice on the counter and a bowl of what looked like batter. Ray tasted it. Batter. The coffee was sitting on its hotplate steaming gently and he poured himself a cup. It looked like the two Mounties had found something else to do. Ray grinned.

Kowalski came stumbling into the kitchen yawning and rubbing his already messy hair. Its state hadn't been improved by their gymnastics. "Where are they?"

"Take a wild guess Kowalski." Ray gestured towards the pot. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, sure." Kowalski brightened considerably. He sipped at the brew, which was on the bitter side from sitting in the pot too long. It seemed to kick start his brain and he straightened up a little. "Maybe I should go get them. I'm hungry."

"You do that. I'll get things started." Ray was already rummaging in the fridge. He pulled out a pack of bacon and thought about frying some eggs. Maybe later… there was nothing worse than overcooked eggs. He carried the bacon over to the griller and turned it on.

By the time the bacon was sizzling Dief was sitting hopefully at his feet and Kowalski still hadn't returned. Ray considered his options. He should have known better than to send that randy bastard into a bedroom. With a sigh he switched off the grill and dropped the bacon into Dief's bowl. "Now you just wait for that to cool down, okay?"

Dief stared up at him scornfully. Ray took a last swig of the cooling coffee and strolled towards the bedroom. It was already after ten, looked like they'd be having breakfast really late today.

 


End file.
